


Episode Ardyn

by f0xh0undvix3n



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Entire Game Spoilers, Gen, Healer!Ardyn, Oracle!Gentiana, if you think having real canon will stop me, squeenix has no power here my city now, you underestimate my power to not give a fuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-01-30 04:42:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12646323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/f0xh0undvix3n/pseuds/f0xh0undvix3n
Summary: 'So you are the Chosen King...but you are a second choice, at best.'The erased and redacted history of the Astral War, those who fought it, and the immortal monster that rose from the ashes.





	1. Heathens

**Author's Note:**

> i'm back on my 'starting long projects i might never finish' bullshit
> 
> on the upside i'm also rewatching fate/zero so something might actually come of that

Often was it said that the granting of fire to mankind was as the dawn breaking over a long and frigid night. The light of Ifrit's flame melted the frost of Shiva's heart, dissuading her from laying her wrath upon a newborn civilization of mortals crafted in the very image of the Astrals themselves. As it often was with living creatures, humanity grasped for the light as a drowning man would clutch the hand pulling him to dry land.

Fire was Solheim's salvation. It was light, and warmth, and above all else it was _hope_ that the worst was truly behind them; that civilization would continue to flourish. As the years wore on beneath the benevolent rule of Ifrit and protection of all six Astrals, there was born one named for those very same passionate and burning flames:

"Ardyn-" 

"Not now, I am quite occupied at the moment." The called name was answered by a distracted tone muffled by the fact that the owner of the second voice was leaning so far into the engine of a magitek airship that his feet were barely scraping the ground. Occasionally there came the sharp _clank_ of metal on metal, or a hand throwing some wayward scraps out of the machine to clatter along the ground. Sometimes it even hit the pile of similarly useless and damaged parts the mechanic was aiming for. "This thrice-damned engine hasn't been maintained in months. It's little wonder she refuses to start, in such embarrassing disrepair--"

" _Ardyn._ " More exasperated this time, the idle complaint was cut off by a repeated name. A heavy and put-upon sigh emanated from the engine, hands in fingerless gloves planted on the edge of the airship as the engineer leveraged himself back onto solid ground. Turning to face who apparently needed his attention at that instant, oil-stained hands rested on his hips with a roll of hazel eyes.

"What, _Somnus?_ " was the answer in a playful mockery of that insistence. The question wasn't necessary, however--one look made it very clear what the problem was. A younger man narrowed matching eyes at Ardyn from beneath wine-dark bangs disheveled by the black chocobo that was clicking its beak and nibbling at his hair.

" _What do you think?_ Call off your overgrown daggerquill immediately." Ardyn struggled to contain a laugh as he wiped at a spot of motor oil on his face in a futile effort that left a streak under his eye.

"Philomela, here." The bird obediently abandoned her efforts and trotted over to Ardyn's side, dropping her head to nuzzle her owner's shoulder. "She's only bored. If you did not take such steps to ignore her, she'd not go so far for your attentions."

Solheim was a civilization that stretched to the clouds with towers of impeccable stone augmented by magitek in shining silver and red, airships drifting through the skies as easily as the average birdbeast. The greatest of its cities was without question Oskopnir; a shining jewel on the face of Eos itself; just northeast of the libraries and research halls in Costlemark Tower. The city thrived with a dense population of mainly architects and scholars, and within its boundaries lived a pair of brothers.

The younger was Somnus, a researcher who now set himself to brushing chocobo feathers out of usually well-kept black hair with a critical frown. The bird's incessant nudging for attention had interrupted a research paper he had been in the middle of writing, the culmination of his studies on a mountain to the east of the city and its correlation to legends of a beast old as time itself. It was work of vital importance to Somnus, but ultimately even the tireless effort of a young man was rarely taken seriously.

Elder by five years at twenty-one was the brother that the black chocobo was now affectionately headbutting; a lanky young man with constantly disheveled hair so bright red that it was said to be a mark of the Infernian's blessing. If he wasn't one of Oskopnir's best machinists then he was without doubt the most eccentric--some called him a prodigy, others a mad genius, and a few used such choice words as 'that weird kid sleeping in the chocobo stables again'. 

Most just called him by his name, however: Ardyn Izunia.

"I am not birdsitting your feathered nightmare, brother."

Ardyn gasped dramatically, raising his hands to the chocobo's head as if to cover her ears.

"Somnus, how _could_ you speak of such a gentle and impressionable child like that? Don't listen to him, Philomela dearest, he's only jealous." The bird answered with a click of her beak and a _wark_ that sounded surprisingly understanding, shuffling taloned feet as Ardyn turned back to the airship. "I'll look after her so she doesn't bother you."

"For how long have you been working on that, Ardyn?" asked the younger of the two, folding his arms over his chest.

"Oh..." Ardyn waved a hand absentmindedly, leaning back over to survey some corroded bit of engine that was just going to have to be replaced, nothing to be done about it but have some strong words for the pilot that asked him to repair this- "Since late morning or thereabouts. Why, what time is it now?"

Somnus frowned sharply, pointing upwards. His brother glanced over his shoulder at the sound of an impatient foot tapping and followed that direction to look to the sky; it had begun to darken, the red glow of magitek lighting Oskopnir's buildings in scarlet circuitry.

"...Ah. My, that's a sunset, isn't it."

" _Yes_ , Ardyn. Infernian's grace, come home and eat something before you starve out here and I'm expected to cover the cost of a funeral. Besides, you know it's not safe at night."

Wiping blackened oil off his hands with limited success, Ardyn rolled his eyes and gathered up an arrangement of wrenches and screwdrivers, turning to leave with Philomela trotting alongside him.

"You're not the sort to hold stock in rumors such as that, I confess myself surprised."

Somnus hurried to catch up with his brother's longer strides, fumbling around in his coat and withdrawing a notebook as he did.

"Of course I've no belief in the nonsense of monsters wandering Eos, but _something_ is wrong. Perhaps one can attribute a handful of missing travelers to running afoul of coeurls or behemoths, but..." He flipped through his notebook as they walked, scanning a long list of neatly-written numbers and coordinates Ardyn briefly glanced to with a raised eyebrow. "The seismic monitoring devices I planted to the west _and_ the southeast are returning more erratic readings past nightfall...as though we're suffering minuscule localized earthquakes."

 _Or_ , a thought flitted across Ardyn's mind before common sense could stop it, _as though something enormous is moving after dark._

"You don't believe me." Somnus concluded, looking up from his notes with a frown. Pushing that fleeting thought aside, Ardyn shook his head.

"Have I ever failed to take your work with the utmost seriousness? Of course I believe you--I merely think that you mustn't worry so. This world is under Ifrit's protection-" Ardyn smiled, reaching over to smudge a black streak on his little brother's face beneath a sky-blue eye, "-and _you_ are under mine. If there _is_ anything out there, I'll not allow it to hurt my favorite brother."

"Your _only_ brother." snapped Somnus with no real venom to the words, wiping furiously at the motor oil on his cheek. A momentary silence fell between them, broken mainly by the sound of chocobo talons on the concrete road. Hazel eyes scanned the measurements and documentation before the notebook was returned to his coat pocket, and Somnus spoke again in a voice far older and wearier than his sixteen years: 

"...The world is changing, Ardyn. There is no greater proof of that than this very city." Stopping in his tracks, the scholar made a sweeping gesture with one arm to the scarlet circuitry of Oskopnir's skyline made brighter underneath a darkening sky. "You more than anyone must realize this; your own hands have built airships that trivialize even the seas when to our ancestors they must have seemed truly impassable barriers. And where once villages would fall to wandering predators or natural disasters, in this era humanity can defend themselves from beast or even the whim of the Stormsender."

Having stopped walking only a step or two after his brother, Ardyn looked back and listened as he spoke--just as he had for as long as Somnus had been _able_ to talk. When others doubted his little brother was a genius, Ardyn was ever the first to instantly defend him and encourage whatever project was the subject of research that month--from the migratory habits of wyverns to the studies of the mountain to the east. And in return he always shared his own work, blueprints for an upgrade to the current model of airship or even just some pointless device he'd put together from scrap metal. There were even rare occasions the two managed to collaborate and improve the other's work with input of their own.

But sometimes...sometimes the younger Izunia brother grew _too_ serious, whether out of a desire not to be taken lightly or something more than that which even Ardyn couldn't quite determine the shape of.

"...What are you saying?" asked Ardyn, barely managing to mask trepidation. This was _different_ , the serious edge coated in a chill that Shiva might have been proud of. And much as he worried he knew what answer to expect, the one that came still froze Ardyn in place just as effectively. 

"I am saying that eventually, humanity may yet match or surpass even the Six in power."

Stillness and silence fell, stunned hazel eyes locked on his coldly determined brother. For an instant which stretched into eternity, the brothers watched each other with a tension in the air neither could name or understand. Could it have been because such a statement was unprecedented blasphemy? That it sounded so foreign and unsettling from someone so young and brilliant? Or...were the pair of them so on edge because both of them knew what Somnus said was the objective truth that should never have been acknowledged?

If, thousands of years in the future, Ardyn had still cared to think of when a path to such a miserable ending had begun...that may just have been the very second he chose. 

Philomela shuffled her feet and lowered her head, preening at her owner's wayward red hair as if sensing the atmosphere and trying to pull at least one of them out of it; as a result it was Ardyn who broke eye contact with a shrug in the vain hope that the sudden unease could be so easily brushed off. That was what he did with most situations; roll his shoulders, tilt his head, laugh it off. Someone had to balance out the chilled edge Somnus had grown into over the years, and Ardyn was far less concerned whether or not others thought of him as a careless fool.

"Such casual heresy is very unlike you as well. Are you feeling well, brother dearest?"

"...Never mind." Shaking his head with a sigh, Somnus picked up his swift and determined pace again, matched by Ardyn falling into loosely casual step beside him with Philomela. "I think I worry precisely the correct amount, for the record." 

For the second time that day, a thought flashed through Ardyn's head that he refused to give voice to: _Not as much as I worry about you._


	2. Counting Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was planning on updating weekly but when have any of y'all known me to have self-control
> 
> i hope to god the text formatting on this one doesn't fuck the whole thing over otherwise i'm gonna have some real trouble with dialogue from here out

In the mountain range to the northeast, the town of Nidavellir had been built by stone and ivy upon the edge of a lake. Sharp contrast to Oskopnir's metal and silver, its residents lived among thick trees and plantlife that flourished amidst fresh water. At the town's heart rested Solheim's most ornate temple to the Hexatheon, and as a result it had ever been populated by the most devout and pious of the gods' followers.

Though there remained those who traveled for the purpose of visiting the temple within the grove, the town's numbers had diminished over the years in a gradual sort of decline that everyone quietly pretended not to notice. 

But in the months that followed his brother's declaration, Ardyn found himself venturing out there more often than usual. Philomela was still a little young to make the journey herself, so he would simply land a smaller airship in a clearing a mile or so out from the thickly flowering trees and walk the rest of the way, thin greatsword in a sheath on his back to guard against the more aggressive wildlife. Cockatrices and sahagins tended to wander not too far from the town's borders, and even Ardyn wasn't careless enough to run afoul of those for the sake of a pleasantly quiet walk through the less magitek-heavy parts of the world.

The main body of the temple itself was underground lit by the greenish glow of lamps strung along stone walls and staircases, the bulk of the structure an enormous open area with simple balconies on every level. Overhead, light filtered through a ceiling of suspended water, illuminating how nearly empty it was with intricate architecture cast in flowing dim light. Ardyn saw only a small handful of people in the building, and even less that went as far as the altar at the lowest floor. By the time he reached the last flight of stairs, Ardyn passed only one other on their way out; a towering man in armor, with long silver hair shining in the blue-white glow from the ceiling. The machinist offered a small smile as they passed each other; blinking gray eyes as if he wasn't certain what to answer with, the soldier's mouth twitched into something that looked like an attempted smile before pulling up a tattered crimson hood as he walked on up the stairs.

A bit odd, but perhaps he was here for a more somber reason than some. Ardyn didn't linger on it, continuing on his own way and setting aside the sword on his back in favor of dropping to one knee before the modest altar to the Six and clasping his hands.

Speaking to the gods was as one-sided a conversation as it ever was; in that respect he found he couldn't really blame others for beginning to lose faith even when gods walked the earth. When even the most benevolent never _truly_ answered their subjects' fears and prayers, doubt might begin to spread in even the most devoted of hearts. But still he prayed to them, silently pleading the case that his brother wished only the best for Solheim and asking the gods to spare guidance for the pair of them. For Ardyn who wasn't sure how to reach his brother, and for Somnus who was looking down a path that quite honestly unsettled his elder sibling. He had remained in place long enough for a persistent muscle cramp to start taking root in his leg when a very different sharp pain lanced through his head, paired with the sound of a distant rumble that very nearly resembled a _voice-_

> ᴏ҉ ҉ᴄ҉ʜ҉ᴏ҉ꜱ҉ᴇ҉ɴ҉ ҉ᴏ҉ꜰ҉ ҉ʟ҉ɪ҉ɢ҉ʜ҉ᴛ҉-҉

Ardyn's vision flashed white for an instant from either the pain or the sensation of _something_ echoing through his head louder than any engine. The ground seemed to shake and tilt underneath him even as he tried to stand against all better judgment. Predictably enough his legs almost immediately gave out as he tried to get them into place underneath him, lanky and awkward frame floundering to catch himself before he cracked his head on the floor. Through the agony of a crushing pressure and deafening noise, he became faintly aware that he was no longer falling thanks to a slender pair of arms wrapped around his shoulders.

"...-rdyn? _Ardyn_ , do you hear me?" A voice faded into existence as the earthquake in his head began to lessen, sight returning to a gentle face framed by straight black hair turned midnight blue in the watery light. 

"Genti _ana-?!_ " The redhead's voice cracked out of sheer surprise, abruptly realizing that she was holding him very carefully to keep him from hitting the ground. "I--did you hear that?" The woman frowned, pushing disheveled hair from Ardyn's face to press a cool hand to his forehead. He was very certain he didn't have a fever, but the shade of red he was turning might almost have passed for one.

"I heard nothing, Ardyn." said the woman dressed in the white of a priestess--Gentiana Nox Fleuret, the _other_ reason he so often ventured to this specific town. Hers was a calming presence suitable of a follower of the Six, and in the several years they had known each other Ardyn had been drawn to Gentiana like a lost traveler to a campfire. Often when Ardyn visited he'd be sure to check in with Gentiana to make sure what little magitek the town utilized remained in working order...or at least that was the reason he _claimed_ to seek her out in Steyliff Temple. In reality, it was a highly convenient excuse on several levels. "I saw you enter and waited for your invocation to be finished before I greeted you, but instead saw you turn white and faint. Are you well? You've not been forgetting to eat again, have you?"

Ardyn shook his head as he carefully disentangled himself from Gentiana's arms, standing on unsteady legs and looking around with a frown. There was no possible way he had imagined that earth-rending force in his head no matter how brief it had been. Yet now...now he felt something else in the air, even this far below the ground. She rose as well with a soft _clack_ of heels on carved stone, hands hovering just near his arm in case Ardyn collapsed again.

"What time is it?" he asked as he picked up his sword, swinging the sheath back into place over thin shoulders.

"...The sun went down some twenty minutes ago." she answered, brow furrowing like she was trying to figure out if the machinist had finally gone as crazy as people seemed to think he was. He even doubted himself for a moment, but started back towards the stairs all the same.

"Something does not feel right. Stay here, Gentiana--I shall return shortly once I'm sure that it should be safe." Ardyn took off for the stairs without another word, vaguely aware of the priestess's sharp protests following after him a step behind with the rushing echo of her heels on the temple floor, but even that vanished into another low rumble tearing through his head as he sprinted up the steps two at a time.

> -҉ʙ҉ᴜ҉ʀ҉ɴ҉ ҉ᴀ҉ꜱ҉ ҉ᴀ҉ ҉ꜰ҉ʟ҉ᴀ҉ᴍ҉ᴇ҉ ҉ɪ҉ɴ҉ ҉ᴛ҉ʜ҉ᴇ҉ ҉ᴅ҉ᴀ҉ʀ҉ᴋ҉.

For the centuries in which records remained of Solheim and the events which would transpire within the mortal lifetime of the man who would someday become Ardyn Lucis Caelum, all would conflict in places and yet agree on a single point: 

The Astral War began with the fall of Nidavellir.


	3. The Phoenix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spoilers: i don't know latin and don't care enough to triple-check it

Perhaps it was instinct that had set Ardyn off, or just intuition. Maybe even the chance that on some level, he'd known that the voice thundering through his head had been herald to something far greater and more terrible than he could truly grasp as he sprinted up the temple stairs with Gentiana on his heels. Whatever the reasoning and regardless of if he understood _why_ every part of him was on edge and fearing what they would find above ground...as they ascended it became clearer and clearer that the machinist was right. The heat and smoke of a blazing fire grew hotter and more stifling as they ran, sounds of both human screams and unearthly shrieks echoing through the night.

It was Ardyn who reached the temple door first, throwing out an arm to stop Gentiana from running further. A wave of heat struck the instant they stepped outside, both flinching against the blinding intensity of flames reaching to the sky and pillars of black smoke spreading to block out even the moon and stars. The once-verdant town was a blazing hellscape, buildings beginning to collapse and charred corpses littering the cobblestone roads. Yet there was still motion in the form of a humanoid figure warped by the heat in the air--Ardyn had no sooner opened his mouth to call out than did the woman beside him grip his arm, nails digging into his skin in a silent warning.

Whatever that human shape was...it moved erratically and untouched by the fires surrounding it. Two more staggered around at its feet, smaller in stature but built in an unmistakable shape. Before them wandered a trio of skeletons, the tallest of which was draped in black rags and carrying a tremendous scythe.

" _Get back inside_ , Gentiana." Ardyn snapped under his breath, eyes fixed on the monsters in the ruined city. Whatever they were--and he couldn't begin to guess--no doubt there were more causing all of this.

"I shall do no such thing." The priestess' arms flew out to her sides, a pair of long daggers jarred from the holsters beneath her white sleeves and sliding easily into delicate hands. "An acolyte of the Six must fight to defend the holy land upon which the devoted shall walk."

No argument came in response; Gentiana was as stubborn as she was pious, and this wasn't the time to bicker about keeping her safe. Ardyn reached over his shoulder and drew his blade in a swift motion. Lighter and less broad than the average greatsword, it was as tall and thin as the man wielding it. Silver shone in the firelight with the same spark that was alight in Ardyn's eyes.

"Very well. Follow my lead; I'll trust you to handle the smaller creatures and I shall deal with the armed one."

There was no reason to waste time, and Ardyn wasn't one for combat strategy. In his experience, the best approach to a fight was unpredictable action and thinking on the fly. Most particularly aggressive beasts didn't have the strategic mind to predict a swordsman's movements, much less the weaponry to counter-

-unlike the scythe that flashed against his sword, strike intercepted with the sound of metal on metal and sparks between the grinding blades. Skeletal hands tightened on the long handle, empty eye sockets turned to Ardyn in a way that left no doubt he was in the sights of a predator out for blood. Whatever this creature was...it was responsible for the state of the town and all the death that was surrounding them. 

That was something he couldn't allow, no matter how much of a threat he faced or how his own hands trembled on the hilt of his sword as he forced the monster's blade aside and backed off. From behind him came the sounds of metal striking bone, and he silently trusted the priestess was faring better than he was. But if Gentiana's role was to protect the land...then Ardyn would make it his own responsibility to protect those who walked upon it.

The creature's jawbone fell open with a rattling guttural snarl as it raised the crescent blade, blackened rags swaying in the oppressive heat to display a skeletal body that couldn't possibly have been alive yet still moved to strike down the young man with the sword--

The best strategy was simply not to have one at all. If Ardyn himself didn't know his next move, then why should a cockatrice, or a sahagin, or even a monster smart enough to hold a weapon? Its arms were raised in preparation to bring the blade down and that was enough of an opening. If he failed to strike now, the skeleton's blade would take his head off in the next instant--it was either attack and possibly survive, or freeze and face absolute death in the next moment. Gloved hands tightened on the silver blade, Ardyn immediately throwing himself forward with a speed that even his own fear couldn't keep up with.

A greatsword flashed, a scythe cut through flame and smoke...and the creature fell in two pieces from a clean strike through its unguarded spine. 

"Gentiana-!" Ardyn called out, turning on his heel and swiftly ignoring the sense of a sharp pain in his arm as well as the distinct smell of blood mingling with charred flesh and burning plantlife. Her white robes were marred with ash and dirt, but she planted a dagger firmly in the forehead of the last remaining skeleton without a second's pause. It collapsed just as the others had, the trio vanishing into a black substance neither smoke nor water. The priestess looked up at his voice--green eyes widening in horror as she looked to something far over his head.

" _Behind you-_ "

How had he overlooked something that large? Where had it even come from? Ardyn would later ask himself that and curse his own carelessness for getting him in so much trouble so quickly. But at that moment when he turned at Gentiana's shouted warning, all he was able to process was a cloud of that same black miasma and a tremendous scarlet _thing_ rising from it, followed swiftly by a crushing force around his body. He was lifted off the ground by an impossibly monstrous hand, arms pinned to his sides. Ardyn distantly heard his sword clatter to the ground as he struggled to draw even a single breath to tell her to run--but it was useless. Stars floated before rapidly darkening vision, his entire body threatening to snap like a twig.

 _This can't seriously be it,_ came a thought to his panicked and fading mind. _What's to happen to Gentiana? If these things reach home, who's going to protect my brother if I'm--_

Metal again flashed in the light of the burning ruins, Ardyn's own blade held in a pair of clawed gauntlets. A man with moonlight-silver hair rushed past like a frigid wind slicing cleanly through the creature's arm in a single motion. The redhead dropped to the ground back against Gentiana's steadying arms, coughing against the pain and smoke alike. The towering soldier stood before them, facing the reeling creature that staggered and caught itself on a flaming sword twice the size of Steyliff's arching doorway. Amidst a cloud of black miasma that the enormous arm dissipated into, he spared only a single look back to the priestess and machinist.

"If you can stand, then I advise you find the strength to run." he said in a severe tone strained by either injury or exhaustion. Ardyn faltered and struggled to keep his feet under him, Gentiana's hand on his chest to stop him from falling.

"My airship." he choked out. "About a mile out of town." Though it killed him to acknowledge...this town was lost. If this destruction hadn't yet spread, Ardyn knew that the three of them would be the only advance warning anyone else might have.

If they died, Somnus would never know what happened to his brother until it was too late.

"We can stay off the path," Gentiana added, "and be less easily followed through the trees."

The soldier answered with a nod, gesturing for them to follow with a wave of his gauntlet. Straightening up as best he could, Ardyn gripped Gentiana's hand and struggled to keep up with the taller man's hurried strides through the still-blazing town.

It was, unfortunately, not as easy as Gentiana had hoped. Though the largest of dangers seemed to be stalking what remained of Nidavellir's roads, the forest even past the reach of the blaze was scattered with monsters as well: human-shaped ones carrying thin swords, creatures that looked nearly aquatic that shot arcane projectiles at the trio, even ones that looked like living fireballs and exploded just as forcefully. Yet each time one drew too near, the solder with a borrowed blade would answer. Cutting down monstrous swordsmen, parrying arcane fires, and guarding the pair against the gradually diminishing hordes--his skill was like nothing Ardyn had ever seen. He moved more like a force of nature than anything human, as deadly as the creatures they struggled to survive against and as powerful as the wrath of the Stormsender's worst tempests.

...There was something magnificent about it that he couldn't name, but that could also have been mortal terror and bloodloss talking.

By the time they reached the blessedly undamaged airship, the fires of Nidavellir still blazed in the distance. The radiating heat lessened where they stood, but still burned oppressively. For the moment, they had evaded the worst...and the instant the machinist thought those words, the greatsword clattered to the ground followed by the nameless soldier falling to his knees.

"Go." he managed to say through grinding teeth, bracing himself with a hand on the ground. "Take to the air and you may yet be safe...get word to the capital of what's happened, if it's not fallen."

"Absolutely not-!" Ardyn and Gentiana answered in unison, the former dropping to kneel beside the injured soldier. 

"After all that, I am not about to _abandon_ one who saved my life!" Closer now and in the flickering light of distant flames, Ardyn saw where the man's armor was cracked and damaged--stained with blood and ashes.

No...wait. That blackened substance...wasn't ash at all.

"Gentiana--bandages, salves, _anything_ , please-" The priestess followed Ardyn's frantic lead, quickly searching her robes and coming up empty. Instead she tore stained and charred strips from her once-white sleeves, wrapping one around a bleeding gash in the soldier's arm.

"Hold still," she murmured, looking to her friend out of the corner of her eye. She'd thought him the more injured of the pair, but the scene before them had disproven that swiftly. At least she knew the pair were in complete agreement; either all three of them boarded that airship, or none of them did. As she worked, Ardyn frowned critically at the black stains on their companion's armor; before any protest could be heard he reached up and pushed back the ragged hood, flinching back at what the firelight illuminated.

The creatures they fought had all met the same end in a cloud of blackened aether, a miasma that twisted as water and vanished as smoke. it was like nothing either mechanic or priestess had ever seen, and now it spread across the soldier's pale skin like a furious black rash, turning his sclera black against silver irises and radiating from his skin in the same immaterial tendrils.

Ardyn's mouth hung open, the soldier watching him with a coldly critical look--it didn't take a shocked stare to know something was wrong. The man in armor knew what Ardyn and Gentiana alike realized: that he was dying of something far more than mere blood loss.

But this...wasn't _right_ , Ardyn's racing mind latched onto that amidst a cloud of thousands of other thoughts. How had anything come to this? _What_ was happening? Why couldn't he understand it? Things had been so peaceful just that morning when he left home, and now he knew the rumors of monsters wandering the world at night had been true...but why?

A town he'd visited countless times been wiped clear off the face of Solheim's map. People he'd greeted and laughed with littered the streets as burnt corpses, and Ardyn could do nothing to save them. He couldn't protect a single person--worse still, it had been him in need of salvation. If not for the man in front of him, Ardyn would have been just another body amidst dozens. Perhaps hundreds and thousands, if this spread farther than Nidavellir.

_ 'This world is under Ifrit's protection, and _you_ are under mine.' _

How could he protect anyone, as weak as he was? Against a threat he couldn't understand, a force that spawned death in the night and burned the most devoted servants of the Six to nothing in no time at all? He was one mere human, no great warrior or defender. Was he truly helpless in the face of all of this?

_ 'If there is anything out there, I'll not allow it to hurt my favorite brother.' _

No. Not one person more was dying tonight. No matter what it took, no matter the cost, no matter how impossible the task, Ardyn looked at the reality before him and decided he would not accept it.

 _If ever the gods have heard the prayers of mortals,_ he pleaded in silence, _let them hear now. Infernian, Glacian, Fulgurian, Hydraean, Archaean, Draconian--grant me strength._

Steady hands stained with ash and blood reached out to frame the soldier's face, hazel eyes closing as Ardyn leaned his forehead against the taller swordsman's.

"What are you-..." At the man's sudden uncertainty, Gentiana's hands stilled; green eyes widened as she watched a golden glow begin to radiate from Ardyn's touch, a gentle warmth against the furious heat of the inferno they had left behind.

> ᴀ҉ᴡ҉ᴀ҉ᴋ҉ᴇ҉ɴ҉,҉ ҉ᴋ҉ɪ҉ɴ҉ɢ҉ ҉ᴏ҉ꜰ҉ ҉ʟ҉ɪ҉ɢ҉ʜ҉ᴛ҉.҉

That sound reverberated unheard by any other once again, bringing with it the same electric agony rushing through Ardyn's head. He couldn't collapse here--not yet. Not before he managed to save at least one single person from all of this. His own voice came to his ears, a gentle whisper in distorted words none of them could translate.

_"҉B҉e҉n҉e҉d҉i҉c҉t҉u҉s҉ ҉s҉t҉e҉l҉l҉a҉s҉ ҉v҉i҉t҉a҉e҉ ҉e҉t҉ ҉l҉u҉m҉e҉n҉.҉"҉_

Brilliantly shining light sparked by Ardyn's incomprehensible words cut through the night and haze of smoke. Beneath it the dark miasma staining the soldier's skin and eyes drained away, migrating along to the soldier's body as if the hands that had built the very airship beside them were a magnet pulling the unknown affliction out of his body. Seconds passed like hours until the light faded along with the miasma, Ardyn lowering his hands and opening eyes that had changed from hazel to a bright and sharp golden.

Gentiana and the now completely unharmed soldier looked to each other in shocked silence, then to the miracle worker himself. Once he realized the black stain was gone from their savior's body, he answered with a bright and proud smirk...then fainted dead away before managing to say a word.


	4. Pyrocumulus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this one's short/a little rushed, i promise the exposition will end soon and things will actually happen that might be less boring, just try to stick with it for a bit

Nidavellir's remains blazed as a beacon of disaster through the windows of the retreating airship, the only sounds within it the humming of the engine. All three within it were deathly silent: Gentiana staring blankly at nothing as her fingers threaded light through red hair--Ardyn still unconscious with his head resting on her lap. The soldier at the ship's controls hadn't dared utter a single word either; the priestess seemed to be in shock, and he was struggling to even comprehend any of what he'd felt or witnessed. At length, when the town was a faint glow in the distance, did he finally speak:

"...Were you injured, my lady?" Gentiana shook her head slowly, a few seconds passing before she realized the silver-haired man was looking at the ship's controls rather than back at her. The ash-stained priestess swallowed hard past the words locked in her throat, carefully prying them free.

"My wounds are no more than minor. It is not I who will need a medic once we reach the capital." She laid her hand on Ardyn's forehead again knowing it was more than mere embarrassment that left his skin hot to the touch now. But whether it was the heat from the fire or something worse...that, she wasn't sure of. "What of yourself, dear knight?"

"..."

Silence passed again, both knowing Gentiana's question brushed a subject neither of them understood how to approach. That language was one known to a priestess of the Six, even if it was rarely heard and never truly understood. A mortal of Solheim had spoken what Gentiana was sure to have been the word of the Hexatheon and performed what _both_ of them knew to have been nothing short of a miracle.

It was such a shock that the soldier had barely allowed himself to contemplate what had happened when he left Steyliff Temple himself.

"This cataclysm..." he began slowly, placing aside the question entirely, "...I believe I was witness to what begat such suffering."

The priestess finally looked up slowly, hand returning its idle movement through red hair. She had been so lost in the pain of her razed hometown--the holy land she herself had failed to protect--that it briefly escaped her to linger upon any singular cause. She and Ardyn had been far below ground when the creatures and miasma spread, and with a sting of guilt she realized that she would likely have met the same fate had she been anywhere else.

The silence stretched on as if the soldier was unwilling to give voice to what he'd seen, and Gentiana was uncertain if she truly wished to hear it. The airship was heavy with the smell of death that might never truly leave the three of them, and she dreaded the truth of what had set such pain upon Solheim's lands.

"I had but reached the edge of the city when the sun fully set. That was the first I saw of the flames, yet they were but a glow in comparison to what we leave behind. When I sought out their source, it was then I-..." The knight faltered, hands gripping the airship's controls in a grip that was white-knuckled beneath his armor. "...I saw the Pyreburner walking the earth. He placed his hand upon the ground, and that same black substance issued forth as if a wave upon the shores of Leirity. Then he stood and put his hand forth, alighting the grove in an instant."

"The _Infernian-?!_ " Gentiana's voice rose harshly in disbelief, hand stopping cold in her idle attentions to Ardyn's hair as the other pressed to her own mouth. "No--surely that is not _possible_ -..."

And yet...and yet _what else_ could truly explain such an impossible sight save only for the wrath of a god? What else but Ifrit's flames could spread destruction so utterly and rapidly?

"I fear it precisely the case, my lady. Worse still is the truth of those monsters. While some rose from the shadow the Infernian laid upon the land, 'twas but a mere handful; five at most. When I followed them back to Nidavellir, I found the shadow... _infecting_ the townspeople at barely a touch. Twisting their bodies, taking root in their very blood and transforming them into more of those unearthly terrors."

The knight's voice carried a faint tremor though his silver eyes remained trained out the window on the horizon ahead of them. He spared the worst of the details, but they were fresh in his memory as if he stood on the burning ground even now. The Pyreburner had been far smaller than the legends led him to believe, mismatched horns bearing a golden circlet glinting in the starlight...then shining in the inferno he kindled with just a wave of his hand. The shadow had spread like the clouds before a storm, staining human skin of men, women, and children alike. Townspeople shrieking and writhing in agony as the plague twisted something deep within them, bodies exploding forth like a wyvern's eggshell to release unholy monsters.

...It was, the swordsman was sure, not a sight that would ever leave him even should he have lived forever.

Meanwhile Gentiana's hands shook as a distant gaze lowered to Ardyn. They had believed in the Six and in Ifrit who granted humanity the light and warmth of his flames...had mankind truly grown so indifferent that their most benevolent god believed they should be punished in such an agonizing way? And why...why those who had ever served the Hexatheon and maintained the grandest temple to their names in all of Solheim?

The priestess bit her lower lip, shaking hand brushing a light touch along Ardyn's jawline. Despite the truth she now heard, he had still spoken the divine words of the Astrals and simply _lifted_ the infectious shade Ifrit had wrought like a candle lit against a darkened home. If he woke-- _when_ he did, perhaps the eccentric man from the capital could be proof that the gods still showed humankind their favor.

"...You were right in what you said before." she answered, head bowed as she watched Ardyn for signs of life while speaking to the soldier. "There are no others who can give Solheim warning, if anywhere else still stands. I know not if any will believe us, but we must convince them before more suffer this fate. If what you say is true and the Infernian has truly turned a scourge upon his very subjects...then I fear what that means for life upon this star. The people of Eos will no doubt panic once the truth comes to light." The slow inhalation that followed smelled of charred flesh and singed hair; Gentiana had to bite back the urge to choke before speaking again. 

"We need a calmer head to approach this situation alongside us. I may know just the one." 

Morning had blessedly broken an hour before the airship touched ground with no sign of flame or monster ravaging the land. The trio were a sight to behold in a city already beset by whispers: Steyliff's well-loved priestess in torn white robes stained by blood and ash, dwarfed by the knight in broken armor who carried a young magitek engineer asleep on his back. Gentiana had only visited Oskopnir a handful of times over her twenty-two years, so while she wasn't certain where the brothers lived-

" _ARDYN-!_ "

-the citizens' murmuring reached the ears of a scholar with little time wasted. Half sprinting half stumbling through the streets came one Somnus Izunia--hair as disheveled as that of his brother with the beginning of dark shadows forming beneath his eyes. He stumbled to a halt in front of the trio, bent over with his hands on his knees and gasping for air. When he straightened up there was a wild look in blue eyes with what might almost have been the beginning of frantic tears shining in them. It was an odd look, Gentiana thought briefly, to see from someone so often collected in answer to Ardyn's emotional nature.

"Is he--we could see the smoke and flame to the north all night, what's _happened_ -" Somnus started babbling the second there was air enough in his lungs to speak, making sharp and wide gestures to the distant clouds of black barely visible through the city's skyline and then to the three of them as words tumbled from his mouth with hardly a breath in between. "-Lady Gentiana, are you hurt--who is this, is Ardyn-"

Gentiana reached over and pressed a single fingertip to the panicked teen's lips, causing him to instantly fall still and silent.

"He is wounded but will recover." She had to believe that was the case, even if Ardyn had barely stirred since collapsing the night before. "Guide us to your home and call for a medic to see to him."

Even if it was true that humankind faced a god's wrath, Gentiana spoke with all the divine benevolence she served and believed in. For as much as she was a servant to the gods, she also worked tirelessly for the benefit of humans created in the Astrals' image. Both those of piety and skepticism were equal in her eyes, and now more than ever called for a cool head and calm demeanor. Now was no time to panic, because the uncertainty she saw reflected in Somnus' eyes would spread as the fires had, fear sure to cause as much damage kindled by the people of Eos. But she couldn't do it alone; all four of them would need to work in harmony if Solheim was to have any hope of surviving.

"In the meantime, there is a matter which I must discuss with you. Somnus...we need your help."


	5. The Sons of Fate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's technically the weekend, hush. i'm already falling behind schedule but we'll see if i can keep up
> 
> bonus points: take a shot every time i use a protomen track for a chapter title (don't. you'll die.)

_click-click, click-click, click-click_

He needed to fix that alarm clock again. At least twice a month it sailed across the room to shatter against the far wall when its owner decided it had chimed at too unholy an hour of morning, and at least twice a month it was reassembled with little fanfare. There was a stuttering rattle to its mechanical ticking this time that made the barely-conscious Ardyn think he must have left a gear loose somewhere when he repaired it just last week.

Wait. If that was his own erratically ticking clock, then this must have been his room. What a relief that was, after a terrible nightmare. Fire, blood, something about monsters and all of it ending in a flash of light? Strange to say the least. Once he actually left for Nidavellir today he would have to see if Gentiana was doing well...just to be sure and no other reason, of course. Much as that felt like a bad omen, Ardyn instead focused on the priority that his brother hadn't yet thrown open the door to complain about certain people sleeping past noon. Well, if he was spared Somnus' complaining, then there was no reason not to turn over and go right back to-

-...blinding agony lancing through his entire body and the act of breathing suddenly a near impossible task in a broken and bandaged frame. Ardyn's confusion and alarm at being forced awake caught in his throat as a choked gasp of pain, air suddenly a very scarce commodity to him.

"Stay still," came a low voice from across the room, "for it would take less time to count the number of your bones that are _not_ broken."

Smart remark or not Ardyn was grateful to have a sound to focus on that wasn't the rasping of air while he sought a middle ground between suffocation and torturous pain. The quiet _shhhhk_ of stone on steel accompanied the voice, pausing and starting again in a rhythm smoother than the rattling clock. He could concentrate on that repeated sound and let it dictate the pace of pained breathing; inhale, exhale, and after minutes that stretched into eternity he could focus on the figure that had spoken, sitting in a chair across the room.

Away from the watery glow of Steyliff and the flames of Nidavellir, Ardyn was finally able to see their savior clearly. Diagonal scars crossed the bridge of his nose down to a sharp jawline, another running parallel to them across one eye. Though he still wore the damaged armor of the night before, his hood fell around his neck and left starlight-silver hair uncovered. In his hands was Ardyn's own sword being carefully sharpened; no doubt the sound the engineer had been concentrating on.

"Genti...ana-...?" Ardyn started to ask, lingering smoke in his throat turning his voice hoarse and cracking.

"In far better health than you." the swordsman answered with a twitch to the corner of his mouth that resembled a bitter smile. The scars he carried moved as he did, and dazedly the thought crossed his mind that it seemed almost a shame to hide markings that made his face look so distinguished. He was unbelievably tall, but despite the scars he only looked a few years older than Ardyn himself--twenty-five, maybe. "She speaks with your brother; if you wish the details of the night's events, I would ask you to hear it from them. Retelling such a thing is beyond my capabilities today."

A gauntleted hand pocketed the stone he'd been using to sharpen the sword--small for such a large blade, but Ardyn guessed it was better for a finer edge--as he examined the results with eyes as gray as an overcast sky threatening rain at any moment. Ardyn knew the look if nothing else; it was one he saw on Somnus on many late nights spent over textbooks and collected data, one he'd likely worn himself in drawing blueprints and building endless magitek devices.

It was the unmistakably critical eye of an expert at their craft, a master of research or mechanisms or blades.

"Forgive me-" Carefully finding the ability to string together sentences between pained breaths, Ardyn focused on the swordsman with an attempt at a smile. "-but I'd...failed to ask your name."

Concentrated silence was the only answer; the knight still examined the sword for any flaw or missed edge in need of attention. Once he seemed satisfied that it was in better condition than when he borrowed it, the thin greatsword was returned to its sheath and leaned carefully against the nearest wall.

"...Gilgamesh." That was all he said at first, pausing as he glanced over Ardyn as if to evaluate something about him that only the knight understood. "And you are Ardyn Izunia--your brother spared you the effort of an introduction."

"Did he...?" Despite all his injuries, Ardyn found it in him to answer with a smile. "Somnus delights in ruining my fun...here I'd hoped to make a better impression."

Gilgamesh had learned several things in the time Ardyn had been asleep, his name the least of them. He knew the young man was a genius with magitek, that he and his little brother apparently lived alone...and judging from the exasperation in Somnus' voice at the situation? Gilgamesh had inferred the redhead made a terrible spectacle of himself more often than not. The last point was confirmed by Ardyn's breathless statement, even as it raised a thousand more questions in the process. What kind of person could joke like that after all they had seen and the condition he was in? More importantly, what kind of odd personality could bring about a miracle like that?

While not a talkative individual, Gilgamesh was no fool. At the instant his shortsword clashed with the katana swung by one of those humanoid creatures, he had known this was nothing he had the skill to contend with. The blade had cracked and shattered beneath inhuman strength, taking its wielder so by surpise that the follow-up strike had nearly claimed his arm...and that was when he _knew_ he was all but dead already. Gilgamesh felt the miasma coil within his body and twist in his very bones; a nameless disease ravaging his body in moments and beginning to _distort_ something deep within him. Innately he knew amidst so many unanswered question that he was worse than dead already, just as so many of the townspeople that had already been cut down. All that he could do was protect the last survivors and send them on their way before he became a monster in turn.

"I assure you," Gilgamesh answered slowly, trying to comprehend what would warrant such a confident greeting, "the first impression you made was more than adequate."

At one touch it was simply _gone_. The pain and cold nameless _fury_ it carried in its black undercurrent were drawn out like a mere splinter, and Gilgamesh felt as if he was in even better condition than when the catastrophe befell the town. Fatigue and pain all drained from him at a gentle touch, and in the calamitous firelight legends of Astral-sent Messengers walking the earth drifted across the swordsman's disoriented mind. It seemed fitting that an agent of the gods would fight alongside a priestess versus impossible odds, he had thought.

Reconciling that fleeting wonder with the image before him was no easy task. A thin half-broken frame covered in bandages and a flirtatiously brazen smile had 'reckless child' written all over it, scribbling over 'divine messenger' in red ink.

"That's quite the relief to hear." Getting back some control over his breath, that time a full sentence left the mechanic with only some hesitation. "Could you perhaps help me stand without falling over?"

"Are you utterly mad?" Gilgamesh's answer went straight from thought to voice without passing the filter that might have flagged it as a tactless thing to say. With no trace of being offended or even indicating he was bothered by the accusation, Ardyn answered:

"That all depends upon who you ask. Now please don't make me repeat myself, I've looked pitiful in front of my brother one time too many and I'll not let him worry over me longer than I already have."

...Gilgamesh doubted he _could_ understand the sort of person Ardyn was, and Ardyn was at that moment too preoccupied with concern for his brother to think more carefully on the matter. But unbeknownst to the other, both had come to the exact same conclusion:

The person before them was unquestionably their savior.

* * *

"They'll not _listen_ to me, Lady Gentiana-!"

Somnus paced restlessly, hands tangled in already messy hair as though he hoped the gesture would keep the storm of impossible information contained while it raged in a chaotic mess. Nidavellir leveled, the Infernian their enemy, and Ardyn...gods above, how was he to even comprehend that his brother had nearly died and apparently turned into a conduit for the divine?

"No one truly takes my work seriously, no matter how much effort I put forth. All my studies and work has ever only been the idle work of a child to them, and I've no ability to convince anyone otherwise. How on Eos do you expect I should be able to help you communicate that this world is _forsaken_ and have anyone believe us?!"

Gentiana briefly thought that she overestimated Somnus' ability to remain calm and logical. On the other hand, she was certain shock alone was what kept her from reacting similarly. Anyone possessed of sense would feel fear and panic; that was why she needed his help in the first place. The priestess halted the teenager's steps with gentle hands on his wrists, pulling frantic hands from midnight-black hair.

"You believe it, do you not?" she asked softly, the younger of the brothers raising his head enough to look to Gentiana with eyes clouded by overwhelming fear.

"Yes, but I...I am not _Ardyn_. I've no power to charm people or talk my way in and out of anything I please. I'm hardly well-spoken, and I-"

"You possess what he does not," the priestess placed a gentle hand under the nervous teenager's chin as she spoke, "the ability to think before you act." Gentiana punctuated words of comfort with a small smile, drawing a shaken and fractured laugh from Somnus' throat. How many times had he personally seen Ardyn walk headlong into trouble because he lacked any concept of the word 'consequences'? Like the time he came home covered in cactuar needles swearing up and down that one had been bullying Philomela. Or just last month when someone that called Somnus' research 'childish fantasy' _mysteriously_ came to class at Oskopnir's academy the next day with a black eye and crooked nose. His older brother was impulse and emotion personified, where the younger liked to imagine he _tried_ to consider reason above all else. Somnus didn't go around punching people or getting into fights with wandering monsters, and he didn't just run his mouth unless he knew with certainty exactly the words to use in a given situation.

"If even one apart from us can maintain calm enough to help guide the people of Solheim...that may be our only chance. Ardyn has already told me of your unshakable faith in humanity's strength; I wish for you to help others see that innate power, lest they lose what little hope we may have to fight this menace. Whatever truly happened last night, I think it is but the beginning."

Somnus swallowed hard past the further objections and fears lodged in his throat, mouth set in a thin severe line. He still held to what he had said; humanity _could_ surpass the gods, of this he was certain. Suffering the _wrath_ of one remained a terrifying concept...but he had to hold to the belief in Solheim's strength, in Ardyn's magitek and his own intellect.

He gave Gentiana a sharp nod; of course he would fight for the world he loved just as he knew Ardyn would. Reason tempered emotion as water upon a forged blade, recklessness bringing rigidity to lessen like a too-tightly wound spring in a clock. They were and always had been a matching pair; identical halves of the same whole together since the day they were born. There was simply no Ardyn without Somnus and vice versa. While he found confidence waning, Somnus knew with certainty that as long as they were together, he and his brother were unstoppable.


	6. The Gauntlet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm still alive, chuckleheads
> 
> names/ages have been retconned for hopefully the last time but god only knows what missed detail square will slap me in the metaphorical nuts with next (i mean i guess there's the thing about starscourge starting with the meteor falling but Fuck It at this point i'm in too deep for that one)
> 
> anyway in this chapter: shounen anime speeches and hinted sibling inferiority complexes

Scions of the gods speaking in the cities and towns of Solheim were no foreign sight even if they drew smaller and smaller crowds in recent times. It was the duty of people like Gentiana to bring the word of the divine to their people, but the day following their escape of Nidavellir was drastically different. Wisps of smoke still curled over the horizon in a widespread gray cloud that carried the lingering smell of _something_ burning even this far away.

Gentiana had been easily lifted to stand atop Ardyn's airship using Gilgamesh's hands as a platform, while Somnus climbed on Philomela's back to follow, legs kicking uselessly in the air until he caught a foothold over a window and scrambled up beside her. It did not present the most professional image, but the gathered crowd whispered and chattered among themselves in hushed nervous tones rather than point it out.

"I confess I haven't the greatest confidence in this." Gilgamesh said under his breath, standing at ground level beside the ship-turned-stage. 

"He's wiser than he appears." insisted an unsteady Ardyn leaning on the soldier's arm. After a moment, he added an "Everything will be fine," in much the way one said when they were actually very sure nothing would be fine whatsoever.

Gentiana raised her voice to carry over the restless crowd, speaking in a firm but eloquent voice the truth which the four of them now understood. Her words painted in vivid tones a picture so clear it sent a chill down Gilgamesh's spine to recall. Wide strokes of flame-orange seemed to spread before them as she spoke of the Infernian's actions, expanding upon the story as it had been told to her and underlining the truth with thinner strokes of plague-black and purple in tones of urgency and insistence. 

Distracting himself from Gentiana's words, the soldier glanced down to Ardyn's level out of the corner of his eye to see golden eyes fixed on Somnus. It was perhaps the most serious he'd seen the young man look yet, steel and iron where the younger was a faltering branch in a storm. Around them hushed and horrified whispers spread with increasing anxiety ( _the Infernian would never turn on us_ , _Lady Gentiana has to be mistaken_ , with a note of heightening fear in the form of _what are we to do, we'll be struck down_ -) and yet Ardyn's gaze didn't falter. Not even as the priestess raised her hands to signal for calm amidst the stirred crowd, calling out:

"Please, I ask of you to bear steady hands and yet steadier hearts. We must decide upon how to respond to this threat laid at Solheim's door." Her own pale hands trembled faintly as she lowered them, visible only to the teenage researcher at her side. She must have been just as afraid as any of the murmuring crowd she now spoke over, Somnus realized, and yet she still worked to ease the hearts of others as a vision of tranquility. "This fate is not one we need accept as inevitable. Providence has granted humanity a light to shine in the encroaching dark; all has not yet been lost."

...Ardyn. She was talking about _Ardyn_ , the very same brother who he had seen drink more than any mortal should and then sleep in the chocobo stables using his beloved Philomela as a pillow. Ardyn, who perpetually smelled like motor oil and smoke, who could name seven different uses for a karlabos carapace (ten if the legs were included), the mad genius who insisted he was _this_ close to inventing a new kind of engine, _no really, Somnus, look at these calculations I've written out on my arm-_

Much as he loved his brother, it was difficult to picture that as humanity's light. But he didn't have much opportunity to reflect on the fact, for as Gentiana continued she turned to Somnus expectantly--ah, had she indicated he'd say something? So lost was the younger brother in his own thoughts that he'd briefly tuned out the worried murmurs of the crowd and the preiestess' voice with it. He froze as if Shiva's own hand had struck him across the face, scrambling to claw his way out of his own head and back to the present moment.

"Wh--oh." Words stuck in his throat and threatened to choke him; at the moment everything fell upon the younger and overlooked brother's shoulders as he processed the uncertain crowd's stares. Gentiana was relying on him. All the world would follow what they laid down as a path in this moment, and it would be up to Solheim's people whether or not they fell to ruin as Nidavellir already had.

...And in it all was Ardyn, their half-formed hope, looking to his brother with steady eyes turned yellow-gold by some divine touch. Telling him without words 'go on, you can handle this.' More than Solheim, more than Oskopnir's people, more than _anything_ , it was that faith he couldn't disappoint.

Somnus cleared his throat, drew himself to his full height as straight as he could, and forced his voice out with as little panicked chocobo squawking as possible.

"We c-can fight against this. Regimes are fated to rise and fall with time; why is it a god's kingdom should be seen as different? If a king should treat his people callously, is it not the duty of the ruled to answer in revolution?" Part of him winced to hear the words that left his mouth unbidden. It was the sort of thing Ardyn would call heresy, but a second glance for affirmation showed Somnus his brother's face unchanged; eyes bright beneath tangled and disordered red hair.

_Go on_ , said the elder with no more than a slight incline of his head, _what are you waiting for?_

"If the Infernian should wish us eradicated," Somnus continued with strength finding its way into his voice, "will we but stand and accept a verdict so unjust? Our most loved temple has been razed utterly; is this the punishment to be dealt to answer a crime for which we know not our culpability?"

He took a short, sharp breath and snapped shut a door to shut away his doubts, turning a key of conviction to lock it all away with his next words. Heresy, blasphemy, what did it matter? Somnus held little stock in the divine when he saw the beautiful world in which they lived. Solheim had been crafted and granted by the gods, yes, but made greater by mortal advancements for ages uncounted.

If that was wrong in the eyes of the divine--so wrong as to be worthy of destruction, of _hurting his brother_ \--then so be it.

"We have the power to fight back. These monsters of which Lady Gentiana speaks, clearly they _can_ be defeated and driven back with enough force. With Ardyn's magitek and my research--surely we can learn all we must and determine a way to drive this threat from our midst. And from there, we can yet stand a chance against their source--against the Infernian himself."

Faced with such a bold claim, the crowd went silent...briefly.

"Fight the Infernian?"

"He's mad, do you think he's convinced Lady Gentiana to say such absurd things?"

In the crowd, Ardyn's confident look turned rigid, jawline suddenly tense. He'd started fights over far less said about his brother, and Somnus silently pleaded that he wouldn't start one with half of Oskopnir on the spot. The younger of the two saw his brother gesture to Gilgamesh beside him, saying something that couldn't be overheard amidst the crowd's spreading doubts and scattered nervous laughter. The next thing Somnus or Gentiana knew, Gilgamesh had given Ardyn a boost to join them on top of the airship; the priestess moved to his side as if afraid he would collapse, but Ardyn stood straight and faced the growing host of Oskopnir's people.

"If you'll not listen to my brother, then listen to me. I've fought the creatures of which he and Lady Gentiana speak; they _can_ be destroyed and driven back. And if that's so-" Somnus heard his brother's voice catch for an instant on the thorns of self-doubt before being pulled free with sharp force, "-if that's so then who is to say a god can not be opposed as well? If it is for the sake of this city and indeed all the world, will we cower in fear of an unjust sentence laid at our feet? Lie down and die if you so choose, such is the free will given us by the Astrals who created humankind in their image. But _I_ shall choose to fight against that which threatens my beloved Solheim and her people. Even should that threat be our very protector, the Infernian himself."

Somnus watched Ardyn's speech, he and Gentiana the only two close enough to see the truth. Every breath came ragged in his throat, every gesticulation bringing with it a wince of pain from aggravated injuries. 

_Ardyn,_ drifted a thought across Somnus' mind, _do you even believe what you're saying? You who are twice as devout as I could ever have been--are you truly able to throw that aside? Or are you doing this because..._ The thought trailed off into nothing, younger brother hesitant to wonder if this was somehow his fault; if Ardyn was pushing aside his own thoughts to throw all support behind his brother's intent. Gentiana had been wrong, hadn't she? Ardyn was the one most suited to swaying others with nothing but words, and Somnus was nothing like him at all.

Whether Ardyn believed what he said or not, he was astounding at making it look like he did. For there he stood, voice carrying out in tones of charismatic confidence with no further hesitation. Hiding his lingering injuries from the people, standing tall and presenting himself as if he truly were a figure to challenge a god, rather than a wounded twenty one-year-old child.

"It's impossible," came a lamenting voice from the crowd, accompanied by several more murmuring in agreement. "When the Glacian's heart was chilled to humanity, it was only the Infernian who could protect us from her wrath! She will surely follow suit if he has delared us not worth sparing!"

"Then we appeal to the rest if we must!" Ardyn called back without hesitation. "We prepare to fight and plead our case to the Archaean, Fulgurian, Hydraean, and Draconian! Do we know the Six act in tandem, or if the Infernian has passed judgment alone?" Somnus briefly looked over to Gentiana, who had adopted a strangely distant look on her face. She must have been exhausted, and to have her faith rattled so severely...

"No one is mad enough to _think_ about approaching the rest of the Six at this point! Who are you assuming will take up this mission of yours?!" called another voice, this one off to the left of the audience.

Silence fell; even the nervous chattering had ceased. It seemed to Somnus as though time had stopped for how still and cold the air suddenly felt. The brief chill before winter's freeze, the calm before the storm, whatever he was to call the feeling it didn't change the sudden dread in his heart as he looked to stoic Gilgamesh, distant Gentiana, and finally to determined Ardyn--gold eyes glittering with the fire of rebellion, elder brother unable to be stopped and the younger all but pleading _don't say it, you can't take it back if you do, so for once if your life **think** before you-_

But there was no hesitation. No uncertainty, not even _arrogance_ colored Ardyn's voice when next he spoke. If he _didn't_ believe the gods could be fought against, it was still clear his faith was unshakable in one fact: Solheim needed to be protected. And so two simple words rang out from a twenty one-year-old mechanic, sharp and with all the gravity of a king's decree:

"I will."


	7. Safe and Sound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i keep saying more plot's coming but i REALLY mean it this time
> 
> i think i've given up and accepted this is a project i'm not thinking too hard over and just doing for shiggles
> 
> it is what it is and i hope what it is is something that keeps y'all busy until square has mercy on us

Rumors ran through Oskopnir like the blood of any city; some major arteries and some smaller vessels. Some such minor rumors were that the unkempt elder of the Izunia siblings often slept in the chocobo stables, or that Philomela was the only woman in his life.

Only the first was true, and the second was debatable at best. 

A day had passed and taken with it the worst of the initial chaos--the magitek development facilities saw a fair bit of activity as frantic plans were formed by the best engineers, but the rest of the city had gone far quieter. People hesitated to even venture outside in the wake of the accusations laid against their patron god, and Ardyn couldn't blame them. The chocobo stables were exactly where he'd escaped to for their relative quiet, just as he had countless times in the past years. It was there that Gilgamesh tracked him down, following some exasperated directions on Somnus' part. Upon approaching the doors, he heard a familiar voice from within-

"No, darling," said Ardyn to the black chocobo as he brushed out glossy black feathers, "you can't come with me. For one thing, I don't know where or how far I'm going. For another, I don't need anyone else getting hurt--not even you." A low and plaintive _waaaark_ left the bird in response, beak nuzzling up against Ardyn's hair in an attempt to preen the dark red mess.

"...I don't know what I'm going to do, Philomela."

Gilgamesh couldn't honestly say he'd ever seen anyone hold a conversation with a chocobo, much less put their arms around one's neck and speak with honest uncertainty he hadn't yet heard from Ardyn. Sense told him to announce his presence before eavesdropping on something he might regret hearing, but the swordsman remained silent and Ardyn continued half-muffled by the bird's feathers.

" _Someone_ has to step forth and do something about all this. What am I to believe of all this if not that I'm meant to be that person? I may not know _what_ I did back in Nidavellir or if I could even do it again should there be need of it, but surely there's some reason to it all. _Surely_ I need only ask the rest of the Astrals what it means and what is to be done from here."

...He sounded _afraid_ , which in Gilgamesh's limited experience with Ardyn was something of a blazing red flag. Was this his true self, past the confidence and certainty?

A clawed gauntlet knocked on the door frame as Gilgamesh ducked slightly to step through it; Ardyn quickly straightened at the sound, turning quickly enough that a few of Philomela's feathers fell out of his hair and off his clothes. Startled, the chocobo rustled her wings and took a step or two back.

"Your brother thought I might find you here." he said plainly, giving away no indication that he'd arrived more than a second ago. Ardyn ran a hand through his hair to rid it of lingering feathers as Gilgamesh spoke, greeting him with a bright and welcoming smile.

"I'm glad that you did. I was hoping to speak with you again before you left."

"...Left?" Gilgamesh raised an eyebrow at the statement, Ardyn's smile slipping as confusion crept onto his face.

"Well...yes, of course." he answered as though it were obvious. "I rather thought you've your own issues to attend to, I was scarcely about to assume you were about to accompany me on some mad journey to seek the rest of the Astrals and plead humanity's case."

It was, when he phrased it that way, a bit insane. They had just met, and no sane acquaintance would immediately throw themselves into what sounded an impossible quest when the fate of the world was already coming into question. But Gilgamesh looked over Ardyn for a moment, this boy with the frame of a newborn anak that he hadn't quite grown into, hazel eyes turned firelight-yellow. This was the child who volunteered to speak with the gods, who talked to his chocobo and hid any doubt from those he asked to place their trust in him.

After a brief silence, silver eyes drifted over Ardyn's shoulder; not to Philomela who tilted a head at the stranger, but to the hilt of the sword kept in its sheath on Ardyn's back.

"That sword..." came a sharp turn in the topic of conversation, "it wasn't crafted for you, was it?"

Ardyn's response was to fix Gilgamesh with a questioning look before pulling the blade from its sheath. Bearing a grip long enough for two hands with room to spare, ending in a tremendous crossguard decorated by the sculpture of an outstretched wing. The blade itself was deceptively thin for how heavy the weapon was, elegant engravings running down the center in symmetrical designs.

"How did you know?"

"You fight as though you were self-taught, for one. Your technique is chaotic and without any thought for strategy. Yet even in the brief moments I held it, I found it undoubtedly the blade of a master of the skill. Hardly the weapon of a mechanic or a scholar, so that makes it unlikely to have been made with you or Somnus in mind. Besides that-"

Gilgamesh gestured to Ardyn, who had planted the tip of the blade in the floor of the stables and left one hand wrapped loosely arond the grip--all told, the five feet of blade and hilt together came up around his shoulder.

"-the sword's almost as tall as you are."

That got Ardyn to frown, uncertain as to where this line of thought was heading but begrudgingly confirming Gilgamesh's estimation with a small nod.

"...It belonged to our mother." was the hesitant admission, Philomela curling up behind Ardyn and settling down to take a nap, long legs folded neatly beneath her. "Scintilla Caminus-Izunia. She was a weaponsmith by trade, made just about any weapons you can think of. Our father Alucinor was a chocobo rancher, that's why the-" Ardyn gestured vaguely to the wing accent on the blade's hilt. "She put that on a lot of her work. Especially the swords, she was best with swords."

Gilgamesh raised an eyebrow slightly; the wing was one he distantly recalled having rarely seen on the weapons of those older and more battle-worn than himself, now that he considered it. 

"She's never taught you to fight?" came the obvious question, to which Ardyn looked to the side and shrugged. The blade was lifted and returned to the sheath on the mechanic's back, slender arms folded across his chest.

"Passed away a few years ago." The answer came clipped in a way Ardyn's speech had never sounded to Gilgamesh before. "Chocobos are easy prey for all that wanders the wilds outside the city. She guarded Father's ranch, and...one day they simply didn't return home. Behemoths, the hunters told us. All that survived was a blade and a wounded chocochick hidden beneath a collapsed stable."

"...Philomela." Gilgamesh mused, causing the bird to open one eye as though wondering if she'd been called. Black chocobos were longer-lived than the common yellow, and grew far larger as well. The one Ardyn kept as company was tall enough to ride, but still adolescent--'a few years ago' sounded right.

A nondescript murmur of affirmation was the response, Ardyn shrugging off the broadsword's sheath to lean it against a wall and sit down on the floor next to his feathered companion. The following silence was heavy with unspoken discomfort, broken only when Gilgamesh finally opted to bring the discussion back to the initial point of discussion: why hadn't he left?

"I am a hunter and mercenary by trade." he remarked, watching Ardyn's gold eyes look up to meet silver. "Much of my time these past years has passed upon the roads and wilds of Solheim, and I know them well. If it is the gods you seek, then I can guide you to places that you might encounter them. But it is as you say; the lands outside the capital where airships fail to reach can be dangerous to traverse. The strength to lift a blade will be worth naught when you lack the skill to wield it...but that is something that can be learned."

"We can scarcely afford the aid and protection of a merce-" A gauntlet was raised slightly in a gesture for silence, cutting Ardyn's objection off. Gilgamesh knelt down in front of the redhead, tone remaining even and matter-of-fact.

"...I hail from Nidavellir, originally." Ardyn's eyes widened, mouth half-opened in an apology before he stopped himself from interrupting with a hand brought to his face. "Spare no thought for wondering if I've a place awaiting return, and less for payment rendered. It is through your action--whatever action that _was_ \--which ensured I yet live. It is I who wishes to see that repaid, and if this mad endeavor is your next step, then I would take it alongside you."

It was a lot to process, Ardyn's hand slowly lowering from where he'd brought it to his mouth to silence himself. But as Gilgamesh watched, the redhead let the concept hang in the air for a moment, thinking before nodding slightly to himself. Ardyn stood up and dusted himself off--even on one knee, Gilgamesh more or less came up to his chest.

"Glad to have you." That guileless grin had spread across Ardyn's face like the sun after a storm, hand extended to the swordsman in welcome. It was a stunningly informal gesture from someone seeking to speak with the gods; Gilgamesh wasn't sure if he was worried or reassured by Ardyn's demeanor. Then again...having heard the uncertainty he'd shown only to his chocobo, Gilgamesh caught himself wondering if that confidence was even sincere. But any thoughts on the matter were interrupted when Ardyn spoke again, tone that of one who had not a care in the world. "My brother likely thinks I need a chaperone _normally_ , so I think he'll be satisfied with this. Where is it we should be headed first?"

...Straight to it, then. That was fine with Gilgamesh; the faster they got to work, the faster this might be resolved before the fate of Nidavellir reached further. This needed to be brought to an end, and _quickly_.

It was with that thought in mind the silver-haired man reached out to shake Ardyn's hand in agreement, sealing a pact that would leave an indelible mark on the pair of them only erased after two thousand years of lingering well past the purpose set before them on that day.

"Somnus made mention of unusual tremors to the east," remarked the swordsman as he stood as well, moving to follow Ardyn (again ducking his head beneath the door frame) as the smaller man pulled his sheathed greatsword back over his shoulders and walked out of the stables, "so there is a possibility the Archaean may be active in that direction."

"The ground shakes a bit and Somnus panics, that's hardly new." Ardyn rolled his eyes with a fond smile, and as he continued to chatter on (something about the temple of Vanaheim to the northwest, mention of checking maps and plotting a route), a realization began to click into place for Gilgamesh. When Ardyn Izunia spoke of himself to a person rather than a bird...he seemed to say as little as possible. But when another spoke, laying sincere words and concerns before him? He went on and on as though such a burden could be lessened by an abundance of lighthearted words. Stranger still, it was so disarming and earnestly done that it _worked_.

It hadn't been Somnus who took up their mother's sword, but Ardyn. The more Gilgamesh half-listened to an upbeat voice eagerly planning an audience with the divine, he began to wonder if that was no mere reasoning of which was the elder. Insane a goal as they now shared, it felt so very _possible_ when in the presence of Ardyn's confidence. Even knowing he was an amateur swordsman, _knowing_ that even the would-be savior himself had no idea what he was doing...Gilgamesh found he was just a little more at ease now than he had been before they spoke at all. There was compassion and kindness to such a demeanor, tied with a faintly worrying undercurrent of something dismissive that the swordsman couldn't put a name to.

An elder brother by birth, but a protector by nature.

Maybe, Gilgamesh allowed himself to hope, if they were truly lucky, the gods could even look favorably on someone like that.


	8. You Say Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we all know damn well there's no lore-based reason that the founder's statue is in keycatrich but consider: what if there was one

Though Solheim held its share of temperate locations, by and large it had earned its name as the home of sunlight. The contintent across the water to the west was nearly overtaken by desert, though the smaller landmass home to Oskopnir tended towards a less oppressive climate. Still, east of the capital did the land give way to dusty flatlands broken up by distant mountain ranges and rocky terrain. 

It wasn't the most habitable of locations, and so there was little out this far save for a single temple, marked by a tremendous statue of a hooded worshipper with hand outstretched. Even with that, Vanaheim was nowhere near the size or intricate build of Steyliff. Built within sight of water as was customary for places of worship--the somewhat distant ocean to the north, in this case--it was a shrine to Ifrit specifically.

Either word had traveled fast or the Infernian truly was slighted somehow, for the temple and arid lands beneath the airship were deserted for miles.

"Are we _certain_ the Archaean may be present in this region?" muttered Somnus from the back of the ship, hunched over his notebook of measurements and calculations. "This is further out than the seismic activity I've noted, most of that has been south of here."

"Likely because that is where you were looking for it." remarked Gilgamesh idly, sitting across from him. "Did you come this far out in conducting your research?"

"I-...th-that is to say, I hadn't--not _yet_ , I-"

"Calm yourself." Gentiana spoke next, laying a hand on Somnus' shoulder. "If one seeks the gods, then one should look to where man reveres them. And tremors have ever been a sign of the Landforger's presence upon the realm of mortals." Somnus bit his lower lip nervously, almost seeming to shudder briefly under the priestess' touch.

"...He's here." Up front at the controls, Ardyn answered the chatter he'd only halfway been able to hear. There was no sign of anything out of the ordinary as the ship drifted over the dry lands, and yet Ardyn was certain of the gravely spoken words that left him. The headache he'd felt back in Nidavellir was threatening to return, buzzing like the time he'd miswired a main circuit and ended up spending the next three days in the hospital. There were no indistinct voices or sudden shift of the ground being pulled from beneath his feet...only a strange innate understanding of where he needed to go, and the knowledge that it was close by.

"Ardyn...?" came his brother's voice, laden by concern and a question he didn't need to ask. But the elder just smiled, flipping a few switches and standing up.

"I'm fine. Take over for me?" 

With a quick nod, Somnus pocketed his notebook and took up the pilot's seat, Ardyn switching places with him to sit by Gentiana. Ardyn took a deep breath and tied back wine-red hair, accomplishing surprisingly little in the way of keeping it out of his face.

"...How do you know?" It was Gilgamesh who asked the obvious question, to which Ardyn shook his head with an uncertain stare. He didn't _know_ how he knew, only that he did. Only that the ache he felt was gradually growing louder, pronounced like the sound of hammer to steel. The swordsman frowned at the lack of an answer which was answer enough, and the pair of them turned to Gentiana.

"How is it one speaks to the gods, exactly? Prayer is one thing," and Ardyn knew the old customs and rituals better than most, "but I can't very well stick my head out the door and yell until the Archaean takes notice."

Gentiana smiled faintly, tucking a thin braid of black hair behind her ear with a pale hand. Ardyn hadn't admitted that was very much a thing he _would_ do, but at least he knew it wouldn't be likely to accomplish much.

"No; the gods appear as they choose and speak to those they deem worth hearing their voice. It has been said the word of the Six can not even be understood by mortals untouched by their grace."

That remark came with a frown from Gilgamesh that Ardyn caught out of the corner of his eye, sharing the swordsman's presumed concern; how, then, was this entire mad idea meant to work? And why hadn't Gentiana said as much before they left, if it was doomed from the start?

"Worry not," continued the priestess, and before Ardyn could question her she had laid both hands gently over one of his own. For just a moment, the heat of the region and enclosed space of the airship both seemed far less pressuring, "for surely they will answer. The gods are sworn to protect our star; they will not stand idle when it is under threat."

"But how can you be s-"

He hated to question Gentiana when she was so serene in here belief, hesitated to pull his hands away from hers even though it felt highly embarrassing to need her reassurance in front of the others. But it didn't matter, because Ardyn didn't finish the obvious question. That persistent buzzing had turned into the painful shock he knew it was a warning of, lancing through his head as a deafening crescendo that shook him to his core.

It wasn't the same voice from Nidavellir. It wasn't a 'voice' at all, but a deafening wave of white noise, static in his head and burning behind his eyes. Closer yet very, very far away he heard someone calling his name, felt heavy armored gauntlets catch his shoulders and hands that must have been his own grip at his head as if to claw out the sheer sense of _force_ assaulting it.

He held on to consciousness but not quite _reality_ , barely aware of more than himself and the noise too much for a mortal to comprehend. The world had ceased to exist, sight darkened by either unimaginable pain or something else entirely--but in brief flashes Ardyn saw something else.

It was without doubt a city, but none he recognized as being of Solheim; grander than perhaps even Oskopnir, it was shaped into an almost floral diamond pattern by the massive wall that delineated its border. Before he could take in more detail the vision began to shift. Darkness swept across the once brightly lit metropolis in a wave, the very stars extinguished one by one in a rush of something he just _knew_ to be malevolent. Only a single glow in the city's very center remained, a blue-white warmth that pierced through the starless night and grew to a blinding shine. Squinting against the light, he was almost sure there was someone standing within it...armored, with wings of blades spread out behind him. The voice from Nidavellir spoke to Ardyn again, the sound reverberating down to his very soul.

> ʙ҉ᴜ҉ʀ҉ɴ҉ɪ҉ɴ҉ɢ҉ ҉ʟ҉ɪ҉ɢ҉ʜ҉ᴛ҉ ҉ᴏ҉ꜰ҉ ҉ᴛ҉ʜ҉ᴇ҉ ҉ꜱ҉ᴋ҉ʏ҉,҉ ҉ᴘ҉ᴜ҉ʀ҉ɪ҉ꜰ҉ʏ҉ ҉ᴛ҉ʜ҉ɪ҉ꜱ҉ ҉ꜱ҉ᴛ҉ᴀ҉ʀ҉.҉

Ardyn became aware of a cold yet gentle hand having been laid on his forehead as if to chase away a fever, and the crushing pain lessened as the world began to come into existence. With it came the indistinct sounds of his brother's voice, shouting back towards them in alarmed words he couldn't make out over the very real sounds of grinding and cracking earth. The redhead jolted up in an instant, moving without thought and forgetting the lingering pain in his head--in two quick steps he reached the sliding door of the airship and threw it open.

Heat and blazing sunlight met them immediately, Ardyn raising his arm to shield his eyes against the wave of windswept dust fiercer than any of the land's sandstorms. Below them the ground shook and screamed in the protests of the ground opening beneath the temple, stone walls tilting and cracking as foundations were shaken and swallowed up by the yawning chasms and rising rock formations reshaping the very land beneath them. Vanaheim itself folded like no more than a house of cards, crumbling to pieces and disappearing into the abyss beneath it.

Amidst all the deafening noise of the reforming ground and collapsing temple, the clouds of dust and debris--in it all rose a single figure from the newly formed trench below. A human shape (of course, for everyone knew mankind was made in the Astrals' image) tall as some of Oskopnir's grandest towers, built as though wrought from the earth and carved of the very stone itself. His face was twisted in a menacing scowl, orange eyes blazing with fury--at Vanaheim? At _humanity?_ Ardyn's own gold eyes were wide with reverence colored by the ancient primal terror that caused man to fear the wrath of storms and seas, a breathlessly murmured prayer lost to the chaos.

Titan, the Archaean, steadfast as stone. 

"...-dyn-- _ARDYN!_ " Somnus's voice finally picked up enough to reach him, elder brother snapped out of his awestruck fear to look to the young man struggling to keep the ship stable amidst the howling winds and flying debris. "We can't _stay here_ , let's retreat and regroup!"

 _What for_ , he wanted to ask. This was the reason they were here; they sought a divine audience, and were granted one.

No-...it was just Ardyn who had come in search of that. His brother, Gentiana, Gilgamesh? They were all in danger if the airship crashed, so obviously they had to escape as quickly as possible.

Ardyn took a step back from the wide open door of the airship...and then another. A third, and one more until he was backed against the opposite side where Gilgamesh had braced himself while Gentiana moved to help Somnus' piloting.

"What are you-- _Ardyn, **no-**_ " came Somnus' frantic shout over his shoulder. Ardyn figured he'd catch on; he always did know when the gears in his older brother's head were turning.

The worshipper's statue had cracked and toppled over; a copper hand once extended in supplication now reached toward the airship as if crying out for help. Close, close enough even to reach and still high enough to be witnessed...no, to _draw attention._ He had come here for a reason, following the voice which spoke only to him and even the crippling pain hearing it brought. Following the light he'd manifested and a miracle performed in desperation.

Solheim needed help by any means necessary, and Ardyn was more than willing to answer what sounded like a divine call to arms.

"Brother dearest, darling, _don't_ \--Gilgamesh, _stop him!_ "

...Would he? Gold eyes snapped up to meet the armored soldier--he hadn't taken his own stormcloud gray stare off of the Archaean, and there was no move made to grab Ardyn to keep him in place. The only acknowledgement Gilgamesh made of anyone in the ship was a minuscule nod: _do it, I'm with you._

That was far more encouragement than Ardyn Izunia had ever needed to be convinced to do something insane.

"Ardyn, are you _completely mad?!_ "

Dancing sparks of something devilish and devious shone in gold eyes as a sharp grin was leveled at Somnus, bright with rebellion and recklessness. Without another remark or looking to see if Gilgamesh would follow, Ardyn threw himself forward with all the speed he could gain in such a short distance, kicking off hard against the edge of the ship's open doorway and launching into the open air.

Quickly he realized it was a better idea in concept than practice: in his head Ardyn had seen himself making a graceful leap like Philomela gliding with wings outstretched. In reality there was much more midair flailing of limbs, because he was a mechanic and not a gymnast. Staggering as a sharp pain jolted through both legs upon landing, slender arms frantically windmilled to stop him from plummeting off the fallen monument to certain death. Landing on the statue's arm beside him with a bit more precision, Gilgamesh yanked on the back of Ardyn's shirt to steady him on both feet.

Not the impressive sight he'd hoped to present, but he could salvage it. Time to fall back on the initial plan.

Hand brought to his mouth, Ardyn's sharp whistle cut into the noise of the chaos--that being the apparent line that got Gilgamesh to look at the mechanic as though he'd lost his mind. Jumping out of an airship was almost predictably mad, but even Ardyn had to know that whistling at an Astral had almost certainly never been done since the beginning of time itself.

" _Landforger!_ " he called out, all thoughts of awestruck fear cast aside. They came here to do something, and by the gods he was going to do it. "I am Ardyn Izunia of Oskopnir; your acolyte would seek counsel and aid that the fate of Nidavellir might not be repeated!"

A wordless force resounded in the air, Gilgamesh reaching out to grip Ardyn's upper arm when another lesser headache nearly threw him off balance as a result. Neither of them could understand what was presumably Titan's response; had Gentiana been wrong? No, Ardyn realized only a second later. He began to understand the intent, as the terrain continued to shift and reform the surrounding lands into a rocky trench. The air was as thick with tension as with dust and sand; this was a challenge.

Not just that, but a trial. The words made no sense, but the sentiment was glaringly clear: 'prove yourself worthy, if you seek the aid of the gods.'

"In hindsight-" he said to the swordsman beside him with some resignation, reaching over his shoulder for the hilt of his blade: "-this was perhaps not my best planned idea."


	9. Rivers in the Desert

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't let the chapter title fool you, i wrote just about this whole thing to the tune of holding out for a hero

Historically speaking, Ardyn Izunia had been known for years as an amalgamation of poor decisions that were vaguely shaped like a mad genius mechanic. It was never a question of _if_ he would do something foolish, but _when_ and how best for those around him to brace for impact.

This, however? This was forging new frontiers of mad and stupid decisions.

While taking inventory of the situation, Ardyn had to admit this was not how he pictured this day would go. He'd presumed that speaking with the divine would entail...actual _speaking_ , for the most part. He'd imagined one of the Six might appear before them and listen to the plight of humankind, and though the first half of that was _very_ apparent it was the latter that was in question.

Perhaps it made sense that he who crafted and formed the lands themselves communicated in force and physical might. But Ardyn had only had a moment to process that before Titan answered his call--with a fist driven into the ground, sending a cloud of dust into the air as rock formations spiked from the ground in their direction like a torrential wave. In the time it took Ardyn to register just how far in over his head he was this time, the air was knocked from his lungs in a sudden impact and rush of motion, the harsh sound of metal scraping stone reaching his ears. Ardyn was sure he hadn't been struck by flying debris or Titan's assault, so what--

"This is not how I'd hoped to begin combat training."

Shrieking in protest of being used as a brake, a sparking shortsword ground against the rocks to slow a sudden descent, the voice of the man gripping it barely reaching a pitch above that of a mild inconvenience. Of course; it was Gilgamesh's other arm which had knocked Ardyn for a loop, wrapping around the smaller man's waist for a quick escape off of the already unsteady monument.

Twice now he'd swept to Ardyn's rescue, barely even blinking at the danger. Hearing such a calm voice in the chaos, Ardyn wondered if Gilgamesh had ever known fear a day in his life.

If they lived through this, he'd have to ask.

Reflection on the matter would have to wait. They met the ground hard in a stumbling crash, Ardyn coughing through the dust and impact. Gilgamesh staggered as he got to his feet, pulling Ardyn up by his arm. The all-encompassing rumble of Titan's motions shook the very air around them, and the smaller swordsman found himself swiftly swept off his feet again--lifted as though he and the sword on his back weighed nothing, another rush of movement bringing him out of range of the Archaean's next incoming fist. The impact landed like a meteor strike, the pair of them skidding across the trembling earth amidst shockwaves and dust to come to a halt in a tangle of limbs.

"Is this a test," Ardyn groaned past the brief passage of stars across his vision, "or is he just trying to _kill us?_ " Not that there was time to debate the difference; he extricated himself from the other man's arms and managed to get to his feet. "Gilgamesh, what should w-- _Gilgamesh?!_ "

Entirely too late Ardyn understood that their crash landing had involved the smaller of the pair shielded almost entirely by the other, and Gilgamesh hadn't come out unscathed for it. He had barely managed to get to one knee, sword planted in the ground for support as he struggled to stand with one leg insistent upon giving out. The mechanist rushed back to his side, hands cautious on his companion's arm and shoulder. "Don't--don't get up, you-"

"...Go. This isn't like Nidavellir," Gilgamesh hissed in pain, scowling with the effort it took to speak after their landing must had made breathing itself difficult, "you aren't going to pull a miracle from your pocket this time. Return to Somnus and Gentiana, I can draw the Archaean's attention long enough for-"

"No."

The word was out of Ardyn's mouth before he could even think upon all the reasons that following such an order was preposterous.

"What-?"

"You..." Tense hands shook on Gilgamesh's arm, teeth grinding in frustration as he struggled to answer in what little time they would have. His head ached terribly from the assault of Titan's voice as well as from a bleeding cut where he'd struck it against the chestplate of the man before him. With every passing second of aching pain came the realization: this was Ardyn's own fault. Gilgamesh had been injured protecting Ardyn, and the latter hadn't even realized until it was too late. "...what are you thinking? You expect me to turn and run away now--to go on my own and abandon my friend? I will do no such thing." He straightened up and turned away, facing the Archaean amidst the swirling dust and trembling ground. "I care nothing for whether or not it means risking my life; the consequences shall be mine to bear, and mine alone."

" _Ardyn_ , please-" Gilgamesh struggled to his feet, leaning heavily against some fallen rocks. "You can't possibly--why can't you allow me to protect you, do you wish to die that badly?!"

"...Not particularly." He admitted that much easily, reaching back to draw the massive sword that Ardyn never really learned to use. "I'd much rather live, given the choice. But..." The faint sway of a wine-red ponytail through the sandstorm was the only clear indication he had shaken his head. "I think I might like to seek out a miracle or die trying."

That was the last thing Ardyn said before charging directly at an infuriated god the size of a building, ignoring Gilgamesh calling after him.

It was at least half a lie; he didn't expect a miracle to occur twice and knew the swordsman was right about that much. But if someone had to be the one to bear the weight of fighting to save the world? Ardyn would have been content to know it was only him, and no one else. Not Gilgamesh, not Gentiana, not a single child of Solheim would be forced to step up against unfathomable odds so long as Ardyn did so willingly. He'd gamble his life on the odds that he might come out alive...or at least that this could remain a place in which his little brother would never have to suffer the horrors of a world fallen to ruin.

How could he fear the idea of death with Somnus' own life at stake? Obviously: he simply couldn't, and it was with the thought of his brother in mind that Ardyn gripped the hilt of his sword and swung at Titan's next incoming strike with all his strength. It felt like futility at its best, and yet sparks flew as a massive fist was deflected by a blade the size of a thumbtack in comparison. Had the act of resistance been surprise enough to deflect Titan's assault, or had it been something else?

It didn't matter; he'd defended himself all the same. The impact reverberated through the length of the sword, hard enough to make both Ardyn's arms almost immediately lose feeling. That was fine; his hands were white-knuckled on the hilt, and so long as he could still hold it then he could still fight the colossus before him. Adrenaline burned through Ardyn's entire body, coming out in a near-manic laugh of defiance and fueling his motions as he moved without thought; away from Gilgamesh's position, rushing to higher ground. Yes, that made sense to the conscious mind that was effectively a passenger to instinct at this point. At ground level he was an insect armed with a sewing needle. If he could just get a little higher, then-

-then he presumed a plan would occur to him along the way, provided he survived weaving between falling rocks and scrambling up the nearest cliff formation. If he thought about what he was doing for even a split second, then the sheer reckless stupidity of it would come to him like a slap to the face. Failure to second-guess himself had gotten him this far, and by the Six it was going to get him out of this.

Titan's following strike crashed into the rocks Ardyn was halfway through climbing, sending fissures that split the stone like lightning; the foothold gave way and crumbled beneath him, and despite his best efforts Ardyn didn't have quite the experience in slowing his fall with a sword that Gilgamesh did. He half slid half rolled downhill in a string of curses, landing less than elegantly on what felt like sculpted marble--

...Wait.

He'd landed on the Archaean's still outstretched arm.

Gold eyes locked with ethereal orange, and in the split-second of hesitation that came with it Ardyn felt a grin break out across his face. There were only a precious few seconds for Ardyn to act, he was already up and moving; running full tilt up the arm of that which had formed the very lands of their star. His mind had practically gone blank, all thoughts of reason and madness alike driven out of his head. There was no fear, no hesitation, nothing but a target and the singleminded desire to strike it as hard as possible.

The other hand of the Archaean reached out as if to swat at a persistent mosquito, but Titan was impossibly large as the highest peak...which meant he was _slow_ in comparison to Ardyn, hand missing by enough to sent a gust of wind that nearly knocked him clear off course. Were the arm of a god any smaller, he might have fallen then and there. But for the second time that day, Ardyn launched himself into the open air--he leapt from Titan's shoulder and swept the massive greatsword in an arc, leaving a deep cut and streak of sparks just below the Archaean's right eye in his wake. Maybe he hadn't struck as decisively as intended, but he'd _struck_ \--that was the only victory a mere human could even begin to hope for as far as a simple mechanic was concerned. A second, victorious laugh was lost to the rush of wind as Ardyn started to fall, his blade's momentum having carried it clear out of his hands to the ground below.

Titan had bent down for his last strike to shake the earth; that was perhaps the single small mercy, but even a fall from that height was going to end in a stain of red on the ground below. Poor foresight may have earned Ardyn a decisive blow, but it looked like it was going to get him killed after all.

_Ah, so be it. You don't need me to see this matter handled. If this is my last wish, then..._

Ardyn didn't get a chance to finish the thought, but the harsh stop that interrupted it was not the one he'd expected. The sudden halt pulled the mechanic out of his acceptance of death and back to the reality of the moment, looking upward--a gauntleted hand gripped his arm, the other holding a sword anchoring Gilgamesh to the unsteady rock face he'd barely managed to reach Ardyn from, straining past his own injuries to keep them both from falling.

"What in the name of the gods is _wrong with you?!_ " snapped the armored swordsman, struggling to pull them both to halfway stable footing.

"...You're one to talk." Ardyn managed to say, dazed by the fading adrenaline and the gradual awareness of how much his shoulder suddenly hurt. "Why did y-"

A wordless roar shook the air, the redhead abandoning his question in favor of a muttered 'oh, not again'--but this time the pain of the usual splitting headache was diminished, a strange feeling like static running through his body and burning behind his eyes in its place. Ardyn was dimly aware that Gilgamesh was pulling him to his feet and placing hands on his shoulders; was the soldier calling his name? He couldn't quite hear it, sight fading from the dusty land to another place and time once more.

It wasn't the city overrun by darkness, but it was darkness all the same; a vast expanse of space littered by unfamiliar twinkling stars...all of which once more began to disappear, blinking out one by one. Again there was but one light in an endless void, but unlike the gentle blue-toned light of before this one burned in red and orange, slicing through the dark in a soundless roar of impending devastation. If the light that had accompanied that voice was reassurance, then this was the feeling of pure destruction in its simplest and most distilled form.

Before them, Titan's physical form had begun to glow and dissolve into wisps of a golden light that felt strangely familiar to the pair of them. Obviously going unnoticed by Ardyn, Gilgamesh saw an ethereal red light in his friend's distant eyes that began to vanish only with the disappearance of Titan.

"Ardyn? Can you hear m-?"

His head snapped upwards without answering Gilgamesh, the magenta-toned light fading from yellow-gold eyes that went wide staring at the sky. The dust had begun to settle, the Archaean vanished as suddenly as he'd arrived, and yet only once quiet began to descend did Ardyn feel something akin to genuine yet nameless fear in his heart. His breath came heavily from either the exertion of the fight or some kind of terrible shock, and even Ardyn himself had no ability to pin down which it was right now.

Worse yet, he had the distinct and inexplicable feeling that whole ordeal had been almost too easy.

"...We should find the others and return to the city." he muttered at length, not tearing his eyes from the beginning glow of a sunset overhead. "I think...no, something is definitely coming. And I don't know how much time we have to do something about it."

 

* * *

 ⚷ _Mark of the Archaean x 1_


	10. Way To Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i learned two things from the teaser trailer: i might've overestimated the size of the blade of the mystic, and also somnus lucis caelum is my son and i love him
> 
> happy FFXVersary, who's ready for all this to be jossed in a month at minimum
> 
> sidebar: man anyone else ever read that long-ass essay presenting evidence ardyn has a limp similar to noctis'? no reason.

Somnus Izunia was not a very complex individual. The calm to balance Ardyn's chaos, he was a generally rational person who loved his brother, humankind, and Solheim in that order. He had never known a life without Ardyn in it, and without question he cared for his elder brother more than all the heavens and earth.

" _I'm going to kill him._ "

However, none of that stopped him repeating those five words in varying pitch and volume to a far too patient Gentiana as the had struggled to keep the airship afloat in all the chaos. Neither did it stop him greeting Gilgamesh and Ardyn dragging themselves back on board with a near-apoplectic fit, stammered in places and laden with infuriated disappointment to put any parental lecture to shame. Gentiana took over piloting the airship once it was clear Somnus wasn't going anywhere until he was quite thoroughly done with his reprimand. Five full minutes into a thorough upbraiding--during which Somnus had barely paused for breath--even Gilgamesh had the decency to look reprimanded.

"--can't _believe_ you encouraged him, I thought better of you! And _you_ , Ardyn?! I could never have even _imagined_ suicidal idiocy on that level, _what do you have to say for yourself?!_ "

Ardyn rubbed at his face, wiping away half-dried blood from the scrape on his head. He had been obscenely lucky the worst injury he'd gotten had been from crashing into Gilgamesh's armor. Every muscle in his body must have been shrieking for rest, adrenaline visibly giving way to exhaustion...but he was alive and largely unhurt so far as Somnus could tell. The younger brother narrowed blue eyes as he waited for an answer, tapping his foot in a rapid staccato of nervous energy channeled into frutration. Gilgamesh looked to Ardyn sitting beside him out of the corner of his eye, the hesitant glance of one halfway to elbowing him in the ribs for an answer. But after a short silence, the redhead smiled gently and reached up to smear a streak of dust and grime on his brother's cheek.

"You were right."

About what, Somnus didn't need to ask. Though months of peace and a mere handful of chaotic days spanned the time in between, the day of which Ardyn spoke came to memory without hesitation. When they'd stood on the streets of their hometown beneath the encroaching twilight, Ardyn smudging motor oil on his brother's face. Somnus had looked at him and said:

_The world is changing, Ardyn._

Before him now, his beloved and treasured elder brother had taken a step the length of which Somnus realized he could scarcely begin to measure. From carefree mechanic to one who challenged a god without the slightest fear of death-

Was it the world that changed as time marched onward, or the people in it?

It didn't matter--the world and gods alike meant nothing when Ardyn was in front of him dusty and damaged but _alive_ , Somnus dropping to pull the redhead into a hug with all the strength a mere scholar could muster.

"You utter fool... _never_ frighten me like that again."

Shouldn't he have been happy? In no more than a day Somnus' own beliefs had been proven; in the strength of humankind being such that even the gods could not ignore it. But this would-be hero was still his brother, still _Ardyn_ risking his life and bleeding for the people of Solheim. Somnus held tight, and then tighter still as if that alone could stop his brother going any farther in this mad endeavor. How much more were they going to have to do in all of this? How many more times would Ardyn take up their mother's sword before peace returned to dispel the uncertainty that moved in over Solheim as a dark cloud before the storm?

If only, he thought, he was the brother blessed with the nerve to have spoken up in front of a frightened city. If only he knew anything of holding a sword, or of the near-mystic power Ardyn seemed to have that let him find impossible success through stubborn recklessness alone.

But that simply wasn't the case; the softspoken Somnus was no more his brother than Philomela was a sahagin. Ardyn had all the eloquence to command attention and the conviction that could turn anyone's doubt to faith. The people of Solheim could have no one better working to protect them, in the younger's eyes. And yet, part of him still lingered on the thought:

"S-Somnus...I can't breathe-"

" _Good,_ that may just teach you not to court death just to look impressive."

If only it had been him, in place of the brother he loved so dearly.

 

* * *

 

By the time they returned to the capital, the frantic whispers had begun their course from passerby to passerby. No doubt the tremors of the Landforger's appearance and Vanaheim's leveling had been felt even this far out, not to mention two of the four were practically dragging themselves back towards the relatively modest home of a scholar and mechanic. Somnus was still fuming the entire way, while Gentiana had bandaged both Ardyn's and Gilgamesh's wounds the best she could with the airship's limited supplies; in short, they were all something of a sight to behold.

Once they returned, mechanic and mercenary alike all but collapsed on the nearest flat surfaces, adrenaline having long since left in favor of sheer exhaustion. Gentiana mused that Ardyn might have had a concussion, to which Somnus assured her that even the greatest medic in Oskopnir would never know the difference--adding that they had work to do. While the pair recovered from their brush with the Archaean, a priestess and researcher took to an uneasy populace to spread the word of what had transpired as best as anyone understood it. Hardly the easiest task, though Gentiana did the bulk of the talking. Though doubt and worry still ran rampant, it was never an easy thing to doubt the word of the gods' faithful when she leveled a stare as unshakable and firm as stone on those to whom she spoke. Less so when the word began to take root as all rumors did and spread like climbing ivy--that the Infernian's temple was destroyed, that Titan had tested a child of Solheim and seemingly been satisfied by the result.

They spent the better part of a day out in the city, Gentiana answering the concerns of the people and Somnus following a step behind to confirm what she said in terms as clear as he could manage. It sounded more and more unbelievable every time he heard or said it. A child of Solheim...Ardyn, he kept reminding himself. Gentiana spoke as though he had done some unprecedented and heroic thing--perhaps he _had_ , but so was he draped unceremoniously on the living room couch snoring into a cushion.

None of it seemed real. He was beginning to think _nothing_ of this situation ever would.

The next morning--closer to late afternoon, given Ardyn's sleeping habits, the four of them gathered in the glorified garage that served as his workshop. It had always been a place he could be found for days on end; a storm of organized chaos in half-assembled device and well cared for tools filling shelves and tables, blueprints pinned along the walls, and a chalkboard with all manner of incomprehensible formulas and figures scribbled around its border.

"--city, it was _magnificent_ , dwarfed even the capital with structures the likes of which I've never seen-"

The mad scientist himself drew on the note-ridden board with the rushed excitement of one struggling to commit an idea to reality before it vanished. Ardyn spoke faster than usual to his audience: Gentiana in a chair with her hands neatly folded, Gilgamesh leaning on a nearby wall, and Somnus himself sitting on a rare clear spot on a workbench. He'd always liked to watch Ardyn work, and even when he was smaller and far more prone to break whatever he touched there was never a time his brother had chased him out. Today he was more energetic than _any_ of the other times spent in this workshop, even the time he'd insisted for twenty minutes he could make a mechanical chocobo that ran on gysahl greens.

(Somnus had asked what the difference would be, and that had rather taken the wind out of Ardyn's sails. But he'd been given a small clockwork chocobo for his birthday that year, and it still sat proudly on a shelf in his room.)

"-- _surrounded_ by this tremendous wall-" As the words left his brother's mouth with hardly a pause to breathe, he watched Ardyn's hand dart across the board with flourishes and a swaying of the uneven scarlet mess he called a ponytail. He drew a geometric diamond shape almost like a compass rose; four pronounced cardinal directions, and four smaller intermediate. "-and I can't even _imagine_ now tall it must have been, enoug to fill a country all its own-"

" _Brother_ , take a breath." Somnus finally interrupted, hands on the edge of the workbench as he leaned forward just slightly. "I believe you, if you think it the gods that showed you this. But I don't understand _why._ What is it they're trying to tell you?"

Ardyn's hand stilled and his voice fell silent--instead Gentiana spoke next, gently encouraging him.

"What else was it you saw, Ardyn?"

His shoulders dropped with a sigh, excitement having given out in almost an instant. As he turned to face the other three, Ardyn swiped a hand across the chalk figure, blurring and smudging the lines shaped like an unknown city.

"The light went out. Not merely those of the city, but _light_ itself. Moon, stars, sun, everything...the only thing which remained was something glowing in the center of the city, where the tallest building stood. After that...after that I heard a voice."

Ardyn frowned, turning back to the board and struggling to recall the figure he'd seen, next motions less excitable and flourishing. His hand hovered a few inches from the board before he began to trace out a less than distinct figure in silence; armored, with equally unclear sword shapes floating around it. After a few moments of Ardyn erasing and redrawing parts as he struggled to remember what he'd seen, Gentiana stood and walked to him in fluid motions. She gently lifted the chalk from Ardyn's hand and began to fill in details with a steady tapping and clicking of stone on slate. As the others watched in silence, she had drawn an ornate helm: engraved and bearing twisted horns, in the shape of a dragon's head with open mouth.

"Bahamut, the Draconian." she stated plainly, taking Ardyn's hand and placing the piece of chalk back into it as he stared openmouthed. "Is this who you saw?"

"Wh-...but..." Ardyn stammered, looking to the board, to Gentiana, then to his brother and Gilgamesh before focusing back on the priestess. "What does the _Bladekeeper_ want with _me?_ I can't--I know what happened in Nidavellir must have been _some_ kind of divine intervention, but I can't even _understand_ the Astrals-"

Somnus had to agree with his brother's distress, biting his lower lip. Why was the Draconian speaking to his brother, specifically? Shouldn't the gods have spoken to all of Solheim, or at the very least to a priestess whose role it was to act as the Astrals' messenger?

Gentiana raised a delicate hand to lightly press a finger to Ardyn's lips, silencing him immediately. (Somnus was quite sure he saw his brother's face flush a light shade of red, but now was neither the time nor the place.)

"Did you see anything else?" she asked, eyes fixated on Ardyn as she dropped her hand back to her side. Yellow eyes that had once been hazel darted to the side just the way Somnus had seen Ardyn do for years when he was cornered with no choice but to admit to something he didn't want to speak about.

"Something's...coming." he admitted slowly, trying to find the right words. "Resembling a shooting star, but...worse. Larger than any I've seen, and when it passed it seemed to extinguish all other stars in its wake. Simply _looking_ at it felt...felt as if I was witnessing the advent of a storm rushing over the horizon, with nowhere to take shelter."

Ardyn frowned slightly, rubbing at the back of his neck and looking back to the chalkboard. "That doesn't do the feeling justice at all...perhaps I haven't the words for it."

_That_ was what bothered Somnus almost more than the theoretical coming of some kind of meteor. Ardyn, unable to find words to describe something? He could outline complex magitek in terms that any fool could comprehend and talk circles around most universiy lecturers. Just what kind of cataclysm had Ardyn seen that even he lacked the ability to express it?

"I think," he continued, "...I think we need to devise some kind of plan. Find the other Astrals and see if they would lend their help as I think Titan has."

A short silence hung in the room, laden with the sentiment that echoed in Somnus' own head: _what else is there to do?_

"Very well." He pushed himself off the workbench, dusting off his clothes and crossing the room to Ardyn and Gentiana. "But not _today_ , brother. You and Gilgamesh alike need to rest, oncoming storm or no." _Someone_ had to insist on that point, even if Somnus felt like he was clawing desperately for what tiny shreds of normalcy he could find under this roof. "Lady Gentiana, could I ask your help in starting dinner? I've never trusted Ardyn in a kitchen, and I'm not starting now."

He spoke quickly, before Ardyn could object--or worse, come up with more bad news. Gentiana seemed to understand the intent; that enough was enough for now, and whatever disaster was next would hopefully hold until morning.

"Gladly. Thank you," she answered as she took Somnus' arm and walked with him from the workshop, "for your hospitality."

Gilgamesh pushed himself from the wall a bit unsteadily and began to follow once Somnus and Gentiana were out of sight, but:

"Gil, wait--do you have a moment?" The mercenary raised an eyebrow at Ardyn, part in question of the nickname and part almost daring him to repeat it. To which Ardyn frowned, hands on his hips as he continued: "...What? If I should be in danger I'm not very well going to be shouting 'Gilgamesh', I'd be dead halfway through."

Judging by the quiet chuckle Ardyn almost wasn't sure he'd even heard, it was an acceptable excuse.

"A fair argument. What is it?"

"...I don't know that I thanked you, and if I did it wasn't enough." Ardyn folded his arms, the words coming less uncertain than they had in his hesitant explanation but still with a note of the stumbling and awkward to it. "You...saved my life. And you were hurt because of my half-formed mad ideas. So--thank you, and I wished to offer my apolo-"

"No." interrupted Gilgamesh, shaking his head. "You need not make apologies for others' decisions. I guarded you of my own will, and shall continue to do so if it proves necessary."

A nervous laugh reached Ardyn's ears, and he was surprised to realize it was his own.

"What of yourself?" the mercenary asked, brow furrowed in concern. "You-"

"Could you sit down for a moment? Please." Ardyn cut him off with that request rather than answer or even consider the question itself. They stared at each other for a moment, gold and silver eyes alike trying to read what the other was thinking with no success. Ardyn knew he wasn't alright with the situation at hand, and he knew that _Gilgamesh_ knew he wasn't. But there was something else to be dealt with first.

After a matter of seconds far more tense than they should have been, the swordsman took up the chair Gentiana had occupied not long beforehand. Ardyn knelt down in front of him, carefully examining the splint Gentiana had tied around his leg; he'd insisted it to be a sprain, but surely she'd known far better.

"If you'll not accept apologies, then...let me try to amend my mistake instead."

Ardyn had no idea _how_ he'd performed a miracle outside a burning town, or what power it was that had taken up residence in his blood. But he did understand two things--first, that if someone before him was in need of aid, he would never turn them away. Second and more recently learned: that 'impossible' things didn't exist anymore.

Bandaged hands hovered over Gilgamesh's leg, palms flat. The redhead took a slow breath, struggling to recall that sensation of _something_ beneath his skin, warm like radiant sunshine and sparking like electricity. He had fought monsters, saved the man before him from a certain death, challenged a god and lived...repairing a mere fracture or break sounded easy in comparison.

Besides, knowing his friend had come out of things the more injured of them simply didn't sit right with Ardyn. If it had to be anyone, then-

The sparks of light and warmth came to his hands before that thought saw completion, Gilgamesh's eyes widening in surprise at the return of the healing power that only the two of them had truly felt before. The light of the setting sun cast long shadows through the windows, a glow in pink and orange while the light within the workshop shone in the same ethereal golden that Ardyn's eyes had become. Once it had faded, Ardyn lowered his hands and stood up along with Gilgamesh, who tested his weight on a leg no longer injured.

"How did you-..."

"I don't know." admitted the mechanic-turned-healer, getting to his own feet. "I thought...given all that happened with the Archaean, perhaps I'd be able to better control something unquestionably divine."

"You're terribly pale." A hand was laid gently on Ardyn's shoulder, Gilgamesh's honest concern answered with a shaky smile. "Are you alright this time?"

"Merely tired, still. It's nothing to worry over." True enough, he'd passed out after the last time--but now he felt a little more in control of a power he didn't fully comprehend. "Go ahead with Gentiana and Somnus, I'm...just going to straighten up in here first. Won't be a moment." Silver eyes narrowed as if Gilgamesh wanted nothing more than to question whether it was mere exhaustion or not, but they both knew Somnus had the right idea. Enough for tonight, and any more could wait until tomorrow. So instead the swordsman answered with a slight incline of his head, turning and walking out of the workshop.

Ardyn waited for the door to close behind him, listening in silence as heavy footsteps faded...then Ardyn himself dropped into the chair and pulled his knees to his chest, gripping the same leg that Gilgamesh had, until moments ago, injured. Pain had lanced through it as if he'd been shot from the moment his hands had begun glowing, and it was plain and simple fear of the potential reaction that had forced him to keep it hidden behind a smile. His tolerance for pain had always been fair, but keeping this concealed was going to be tricky. He'd have to splint it himself and try to make sure it healed properly, not to mention keeping himself on his feet. The others couldn't know, he'd decided that in an instant. The world was relying on a miracle, and the three of them were relying on Ardyn--on the twenty-one year old who had broken out into a cold sweat as he bandaged a broken leg with shaking hands and struggled to stand upright on it. Difficult, but with a little effort he could hide the bandages and any signs of being in pain.

They _couldn't_ find out that the blessing of the divine was beginning to take its toll. If they couldn't have hope in the miracle before them, what would be left?

Yellow eyes drifted back to the chalkboard--to Gentiana's drawing of the majestic dragon helm of Bahamut himself.

If it had to be anyone, Ardyn thought, then...let it be only him.


	11. Little Lion Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT IS BOLD OF YOU TO THINK THE IMPENDING RELEASE OF ACTUAL CONTRADICTORY CANON HAS ANY POWER TO STOP MY SELF-INDULGENT HAND
> 
> MERRY HOLIDAY

Night came and went with the setting and rising of the sun as it always had and always would. The next morning--Ardyn awake earlier than he had been in years--saw the four gathered around a map laid out on the kitchen table.

"It is no simple task to pinpoint the locations of the gods." said Gentiana, a cup of tea at her right hand having long since gone cold while she brandished a pen in her left with a sharp _click._ "However, one hears a great many things, and can infer several more."

"Such as...if you seek the Hydraean, look to the seas and islands?" Somnus offered hesitantly, blue eyes scanning the map.

"Exactly so. In that respect, some are easier to predict the movements or locations of than others. Given the tales of the Hydraean's temper being surpassed only by the Infernian's...I do suggest we would be better served beginning elsewhere."

"Where do you--" Midway through his question, Ardyn stifled a yawn, "--suggest we look, and to which Astral are we to appeal?"

"We have few options." she mused, green eyes trailing from the central continent to northeastern archipelago, western desert continent, and southern islands. "The voice of the Bladekeeper has reached Ardyn already, and surely will once more. It does not need saying that Ifrit is no option, and the Tidemother poses a terrible risk of worsening a dire situation. Shiva is one we would be wise to seek out with great caution as well, perhaps matching the Infernian."

"But that just leaves-" The dull _thunk_ of a coffee mug being placed upon the table a bit harder than necessary cut off Somnus' observation half-formed.

"Out of the question." Gilgamesh's voice rang out with calm authority, all three looking to him in surprise. "I've knowledge of where the Fulgurian is known to reside, and divine voice or not I will allow none of you to be fool enough to walk upon those grounds. Never mind the Infernian, you risk calling the wrath of all the Six with such mad heresy."

"Ramuh..." murmured an Ardyn who was only now fully awake and cognizant. Gold eyes widened and snapped back to Gentiana, who gave only a small nod in confirmation. "The _Umbral Isle_ , have you lost your senses?! No one's done anything terrible enough to even be _imprisoned_ there in--"

"--centuries, at _least_." Somnus picked up as Ardyn faltered from sheer disbelief.

"I know this well, yet the Fulgurian is the sole of the Six whose domain is not only certain, but common knowledge. There may he ever be found, and to meet with him the risk of treading upon the hallowed ground of judgment must be taken."

No matter what step they took next, they were inviting a risk of even more magnitude than speaking to Titan. Ardyn understood that intellectually, and yet the faithful acolyte he still was at heart refused the very concept of Gentiana's words.

"I would sooner face the Tidemother herself than presume I've any right to step foot on _Angelg-_ "

From outside the front door, a sharp few knocks cut off the name of the fabled prison island--surprised as he was, Ardyn was secretly relieved. Just to speak the name felt like an ill omen, at this point.

"Expecting someone?" Ardyn shook his head at his brother's question, prompting Somnus to stand and take a few quick steps to the door. Rarely did anyone come to visit them, and when they did it was almost unfailingly someone seeking Ardyn's help with broken magitek.

The man at the door wasn't familiar to the brothers; tall and slender with features razor sharp, his dark brown hair in a thick braid falling over a shoulder. He wore a look so severe that it almost seemed he'd be equally likely to knock Somnus out or to greet him, which had Ardyn halfway out of his chair before the stranger spoke.

"...I am told he who spoke with the Archaean lives here."

Somnus opened and closed his mouth wordlessly, having picked up on the same uncertainty about whether or not he was about to get thrown through his own kitchen. That was all it took to get Ardyn to stand fully, hands on the table ostensibly to lean forward.

"You were told correctly. Come in, and do cease unsettling my little brother."

The imposing stranger stepped in as Somnus half-scrambled back to Gentiana, looking over Ardyn with eyes cold and blue as the Glacian's ice. As if... _evaluating_ him, seeking out a reason to be unimpressed with the one rumored to speak with gods. There were, Ardyn might admit, many reasons to be unimpressed. But he held that cold gaze with a sharp one of his own, the tension thick enough to cast a fog over the entire house-

"You'll not intimidate this one." interrupted Gilgamesh evenly, picking up the coffee mug in front of him again. "All you're accomplishing is a staring contest."

Blue eyes darted over to Gilgamesh, and the stranger's head followed so quickly Ardyn swore he could hear his neck crack. The coolly intimidating stare turned to a scowl, severe-looking man now focused on the swordsman.

" _You?_ What in the name of--what are you doing here?!"

"Quite obviously, nothing so urgent as what leads you to seek this place." In smooth motions Gilgamesh stood, placing himself at Ardyn's side all but looming over the man with the braid.

"Friend of yours?" Gold eyes flicked from the now annoyed man up to Gilgamesh, who _very nearly_ wore a smirk that said enough in response. Not friendly', but not the sharp look deserving of an enemy.

Grinding his teeth in blatant frustration, the stranger curled a calloused hand into a fist and screwed his eyes shut. Briefly he looked at war with himself until making an abrupt movement...dropping to one knee before Ardyn, head bowed.

"I've nowhere else left to turn, and even prayer is met by silence. I come to forsake pride and beg your help, if rumor should be truth and you have indeed spoken with the Astrals. I know not of what you are capable, but...I need a miracle."

"Wha-....s--sorry...?" Shocked and breathless, Ardyn looked to Somnus and Gentiana to confirm this was happening; the former mirrored his own disbelief while the latter wore the placid mask of a priestess.

"My sister, a hunter--she returned home ill a matter of days ago. The medics confess no recognition of her ailment, and she responds to no treatment. Her sickness worsens faster than I can track, a horrid blackening upon her skin causing her terrible pain and fever."

Stricken with desperation as he was, the kneeling man didn't see Ardyn's eyes widen as he looked to Gilgamesh, or the instant understanding between them. Suddenly it made sense; the mention months prior Somnus had made of rumored monsters and missing travelers. The localized earthquake readings Ardyn's own fleeting thoughts had compared to something _moving_ in the dark.

'Something' like the monster at Nidavellir that had nearly crushed him. The monsters that had spread a blackened blight along Gilgamesh's own skin, the blight that Ardyn had lifted as though it were never there. Had they traveled so far from the burned lands near Steyliff, or were there truly more such creatures out there? And if someone else was suffering beneath the same terrible weight, then how else could Ardyn possibly answer but with the obvious?

"I know not if you can do anything to save her or if you are aware of what would, but I have no other option and I fear she's nearly out of time. Please-"

"You've no need to sacrifice pride to seek my aid. And you _certainly_ have no reason to bow to me of all people." Ardyn's voice carried no hesitation; indeed the opposite, he stopped the man's desperate pleading before it could go further and knelt down to his level on the floor. "I am no lord or king requiring such formalities," he continued with a gentle smile. "Your name? Clearly someone here knows you, but I've not the pleasure."

"It's...Vandeae. And my sister is Alba." The severe features wore a look of uncertainty as Vandeae raised his head to meet Ardyn's eyes; obviously this wasn't an outcome he'd expected.

"It's a pleasure." said Ardyn, straightening up mostly on his right leg and offering a hand to pull the young man to his feet in turn. "I am Ardyn Izunia--Gilgamesh is my friend and protector. This is my brother Somnus, and our dear friend Gentiana Nox Fleuret."

He shook the entirely baffled Vandeae's hand firmly before letting go, gesturing towards the door.

"Please. Take me to your sister."

 

* * *

 

By the time the front door had closed behind them, Vandeae's imploring demeanor had evaporated to be replaced by cold rigidity. Which was in part, Ardyn surmised, due to the fact Gilgamesh had silently insisted upon accompanying the pair as they walked through Oskopnir's streets. If his sister was a hunter, Ardyn made a guess that the severe look and intimidating aura was due to being some manner of soldier himself.

"How do you know each other?" he asked, quickening steps to keep up with the pair who walked in tense silence. No answer came from Vandeae, prompting Gilgamesh to speak up with what Ardyn was sure was a brief roll of silver eyes.

"He was companion to my rival in combat training when we were children. Hard to believe for how small he is, but we're roughly the same age." Ardyn looked between the pair of them; for as intimidating as he was, Vandeae did seem a slight thing next to how Gilgamesh towered over them. But the smaller man made an affronted scoffing noise that sounded like a strangled midgardsormr, whipping his head around to glare at Gilgamesh.

"We both know he wasn't your _rival_ , are you still on about that all these years later?" To Ardyn in a more patient tone, he explained: "My friend holds more love for peace than combat. _Some people_ consider that a waste of talent."

Gilgamesh frowned, and for a rare moment Ardyn was sure his stoic friend looked affronted by Vandeae's words.

"Klauser's still a chocobo farmer up north, I take it? Gods forbid he should ever pick up a sword again, he's surely forgotten how to hold one. A pitiable waste--he was almost good enough to match me back then."

"Fool." Vandeae snapped back at Gilgamesh's prideful tone, leading Ardyn to cover laughter with a cough into his hand. "I tolerate you today for my sister's sake and that alone, now come along and if you wake her sounding like a stampeding kujata in a magitek lab I'll make you regret it."

With that, he pulled open the door to a home on the side street they had turned onto and vanished inside.

"Pleasant sort of fellow, isn't he?" Ardyn mused partially to himself, Gilgamesh waving a hand dismissively.

"Never mind that. You were able to call forth that light yesterday--do you think you can do this?" Ardyn's smile began to fade at the question, eyes darting to the half-open door. Unbeknownst to Gilgamesh, pain had lanced incessantly through his left leg since then as if in some terrible warning of consequences he didn't yet see the scope of. But-

"I have to try. Whatever it is...I can't leave this alone knowing there's any chance I could help. Please, would you--"

"You needn't ask." Without an ounce of the pride he'd leveled at Vandeae, Gilgamesh put a hand on Ardyn's back to encourage him onward. "I'll be at your side."

Befitting combat-ready hunters, a well-used lance leaned on the wall by the door--beside a coat rack bearing a leather holster housing a pair of daggers. The home they'd been led to was a comfortable one...or it should have been, if not for the intangible pressure of something _wrong_ hovering within. It felt to Ardyn as if the concept of dread itself had begun to manifest around them, air thickened by something he couldn't see or name.

He had already started walking in the direction of the next room by the time Vandeae had quietly called "in here," moving as if pulled with Gilgamesh just behind. Somehow-- _instinctively_ was the word that he felt described it--Ardyn knew what he'd find as he carefully pushed the door open.

Lying on the bed before them was a young woman nearer to Somnus' age, stark white hair pushed back from her forehead where a cold compress rested. Each breath she drew rattled audibly from throat to chest, skin mottled by a horrific jet-black rash that crawled along her arms and traveled halfway up her throat.

"Please, is there anything you know of that can hel-" Before Vandeae could finish the request Ardyn had walked past like it wasn't even heard. His eyes hadn't left the woman's sleeping form for an instant, crossing the room to sit lightly on the edge of the bed. He took the woman's hand in both of his own as Vandeae and Gilgamesh watched: the former confused and the latter on edge.

"Alba, wasn't it...?" Ardyn murmured to the fitfully sleeping hunter before him after a moment of examining the illness marring her hand and arm. "You must be suffering terribly, my dear...forgive me, you were so close by and I'd no idea."

"What's he doing-?" Vandeae looked to Gilgamesh for explanation, but the taller of the two was focused entirely on Ardyn. He wouldn't have known where to start even if he tried, anyway.

"Quiet. Just watch."

Could he do it? Theoretically, of course--he already had once, and the light had answered when he called it a second time. But _could he do it again_ , would that warm and comforting light answer a mere mechanic's fervent prayers? Ardyn had a plethora of doubts in himself, and even more questions as to _why_ such a miracle would take root in his body rather than anyone stronger and more suitable.

None of which mattered at this specific moment. Again someone was before him in anguish and surely nearing death, and no matter the reason the power to avert such a terrible fate was a burning light in Ardyn's very soul. Not only could he do it, but he _would_ because there was no other option. Without thought to the words themselves, Ardyn spoke:

" _Blessed stars of life and light..._ "

The golden glow in his hands flickered at first in the way of a candle lit in a draft before beginning to catch, steady and warm in the otherwise dim light of the room. Inch by inch, the nameless pressure in the house began to lift like a storm cloud rolling off of the sun and out to sea.

" _...deliver us from darkness' blight._ "

The blackened rash lessened before their very eyes, turning to dark branching marks running through Alba's veins and traveling towards the hand Ardyn held. As it reached her hand it was drawn out in thin trails and particles of purple smoke that dissipated beneath Ardyn's own extended hand and the light issuing forth from it. Her rattling breaths grew even, tense and shuddering form relaxing as color returned to a face ashen as death. Gently, he laid her hand down as the light faded and stood with a tired but relieved sigh.

"I think she'll need to rest for a while yet." Ardyn turned to face a speechless Vandeae and awestruck Gilgamesh, smiling as brightly as the light which had brought salvation. "If she's still unwell when she wakes, you obviously know where to find us."

Mere minutes ago, she had been on the verge of death, and now it was as if nothing had ever been wrong in the first place.

Truly, Ardyn admitted to himself, a successful encounter indeed.

 

* * *

 

"If there's anything, _anything_ I can ever do for you in return, please-"

"Really," insisted Ardyn as Vandeae clasped his hand for the third time in perhaps as many minutes, "i-it's fine. Just refrain from bowing to me again, if you would."

"I can't show enough of my gratitude, sir. When Alba wakes I'll be sure to tell her everything that she might thank you herself as well." The look on Vandeae's face suggested that not bowing to him on the spot was far easier said than done, but he released Ardyn's hand with a rigid nod.

"We should really be getting back," Ardyn answered with an awkward laugh, raising his hands defensively before Vandeae could shake them again. "Somnus and Gentiana might worry before long. I'll look forward to seeing you and your sister alike once she's recovered." Being praised as if he were some kind of saint was something he was nowhere near prepared to answer, and he sought an escape route as fast as possible. A few quick but polite farewells tumbled out of Ardyn's mouth after that hastily-spoken excuse, the redhead quickly turning to leave.

Gilgamesh had taken only a step or two after him when a hand reached out to grip his arm, halting him.

" _What is he._ " hissed Vandeae in a sound akin to the awe and terror they had all felt facing the Archaean. He sounded as if he'd had a brush of his own with a Messenger walking the mortal plane...at that point, it may as well have been the truth. Gilgamesh raised an eyebrow, looking from Vandeae's severe and tense expression to the retreating mechanic with a sword on his back and hands in his pockets. The answer that came was, despite everything, an honest one:

"...I'm not certain of that yet." He brushed Vandeae's iron grip off of his arm, taking another few steps to leave. "When I determine that, perhaps I'll tell you."

" _Amicitia._ " snapped the man in the braid, calling out to Gilgamesh who looked over his shoulder. "He calls you his protector...if anything happens to him, I _will_ make you pay for it."

The swordsman's mouth curled up into a prideful smirk the likes of which he'd never shown Ardyn; remnants of a more hotheaded past long unspoken.

"Even were you _capable_ of that, Leonis, I'd die long before allowing anything to touch him."


End file.
